City of the dead

Her soul lies
in the city of the dead,
buried under steel and stone,
beneath an avalanche
of carefully measured days,
mocked, derided, unmourned.
The wheel turns across bone -
roll wheel, crush sweet flesh,
crush eyes, heart, hope,
bury love, devour time.
offer oblivion,
second face of desolation.
Nepenthe pour your draught,
let her forget
she offered up her soul,
her precious hours,
to a god of stone.

© 2002 J.L.Stanley