Your proud statues fall
They do not crumble in cataclysm
Instead they wither, diminish
Leaving no fragments, not even dust
To mold and sour rot
Your pyres burn upon shores
of a fetid pool of sorrows
The flames at my back
Cast shadows before me
as I shake your wretched dust from my shoes
Rusting machines and flesh-less bones
the only memorial of your passing
Farewell Columbia! No headstone for Jezebel
T. Darby