Ozymandias

(This poem is best viewed on a PC)

I met a traveler from a distant moon

Who said, A double arch of faded gold

Stands in the desert, on a fused glass dune.

Around it lichens shimmer in the cold

Of nuclear winter. With the sun at noon,

Traces of some great building can be seen,

A temple or a brothel, or perhaps

Something of both, or something in between.

(Arches like wings suggest a bird-god’s shrine)

Its secrets lost to us in its collapse.

And on a ruined wall, a faint sign:

“I’m lovin’ it.” Nothing beside remains.

Round the decay, forsaken and resigned,

The glassy waste endures black carbon rains.