This is what you behold

This is what you behold,

The seed, the soil, the scent

Of an era, long gone, buried beneath

The ashes, buried beneath the snow,

Covered by a relentless man’s anguish.

This is what you behold,

A world blown to pieces,

A world deconstructed and re-assembled,

With salvaged parts

A kingdom designed in the dark,

The spineless souls,

A republic conceived amidst the muted echoes

Of discontentment.

This is what you behold.

This is what you build.

This is what you become.

© Ernesto González, 2009