Religion

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The guiding paths are lost and rank with grass
And weeds. Millennia have seen slabs racked
With earthquakes. In this space where gods might pass,
If they were real and if this world were packed
With gods and goddesses inside a realm
Of deities and other evils, where
This sanctuary said that at the helm
Of all ruled maleness set above for prayer
And set above with femininity beside
Him, superstition here confused with truth
Is symbolized by ruination pried
From dead priests’ brains if carved as marble youth.

The fallen pillar sections point to nth

  Unmeaning by the missing sculpture’s plinth.