Walking through the quiet city
Buildings out of place
Loom large.
Structures we once knew.

I peruse the ruins from below
While surveyors scan the horizon
From the tops of creaking monuments.
Smiling past destruction
With only a vague feeling
Of emperor's doubt,
Until the spring chill
Never easy to ignore,
Beds down the dusk.

Then the wait begins.
For the rising sun,
The great deceiver,
To arrive imperceptibly,
Never revealing its companions
Misdeeds.
And the ever present warning
Of screeching birdsong
Laments the break of day
Once more.