The melting sky quenches the fires lit far below
Its cooling breeze a balm for the burns
Gathered unwittingly by the landscape of stones
As the dry earth caught the fire its people sow

Anguish drenched in fleeting, icy rain
The ground itself releases its strain
As the slow decay of its once mighty strength
Stills for a moment of fleeting length
Foolish the thought of true reprieve
Decay hastens the shaking of its wicked sieve

Expectant wind snaking through concrete pillars
Coated in the water of steadfast hope
Whistling at all who might hear its final choke
Die out far from the sea with its gentle whiskers

Gentle patter of liquid crystal jewels
Upon umbrellas grown from cadavers ancient
As the faceless crowds dance upon the stones
In their daily rites as the grand engine cools
The end of hours of labors done inpatient
So lovely rain may sooth the land's tired bones