Do the old gods walk these ancient halls?
Or, are they spared disgrace by an age-long slumber?
Do they sense the crumbling of these hallowed walls?
Or the dust-choked fountains encased with umber?
Where twenty virgins once filled the queen's own bath
With steaming mineral waters, and exotic oils,
Now lizards crawl across that very path,
The ivory tub a rubbled pit where vipers coil
Slender columns once held the temple roof most high
While priests passed below with measured pace,
Now reach vainly into the fading sky,
Beneath the wheeling stars of space