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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