I heard there was a place,
I do not know where it is,
there is no one left alive or gone who knows it.
There I heard remains a wonder
carved out of a cliff, split by the Promethean heat,
weathered by the seasons, it stands still
in the open sky, forever waiting to be found.
Still visible are, what could be
words in a language long forgotten.
Two youthful shapes, barely aging,
of a man and a woman, gazing just beyond or above horizon,
because it is ungraceful to be alone,
the only dance they make look old-fashioned.
He, rough and rushed, but comprehensive.
She, a beauty wild, with a loved touch about her.
And it is time who got weary of their proud posture,
their grasping hands, fiery eyes
and daring apathetic smile.
But whose hand then carved this moment in stone?
and what are the words engraved?
Well...I heard people wondered all along.
Comments
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(going from what you wrote in the shameless box)
it's hard to find metaphors and symbolism in the poems of people you do not know, there are so many things that mean different things to different people...
(going from my own impressions)
this poem is almost written like a riddle. do you mean it to be?
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Ooh i like the style of this. In a way its sort of a mythical tale, with a lot of poetic imagery...
'and it is time who got weary of their proud posture'
I always love the mention of the passage of time, its such a great topic to write about! Generally i liked the refreshing read and the inquisitive nature of it. Nicely done!
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