In the dust pearls of yore, wails wrecked dome
Derelict citadel redolent
Of glory, once revered now ashes –
Lasts ne’er gold throne, when blows wind of change,
Uprooted Byzantine dominion,
Buon frescoes now defaced and rusty.
Touched peak, the sun sank low; reign breathed last,
Delusive permanence, fugitive
Fame, unsung tales buried, names begrimed.
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A Botanist by education but a writer by choice. A freelance content writer. Poetry is her newfound love, she is learning and evolving every day through writing. It gives her solace and soothes her inner chaos.
Latest posts by Roodaba Shah (see all)
- Blank Pages - 20 Jan 2021
- Impermanence - 15 Dec 2020
- Hope - 20 Nov 2020
