Buried for Millennia in Darkness of Dead Dreams
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/548265
If roses turned to pyramids, their weight
Would add no beauty. Brilliant hues would all
Be banished in blank sanctums to await
The torches of the robbers’ flickered wall.
The lapis lazuli, burnt orange and gold
Would disappear in blackness like the death
That royal magic failed to kill. Bright, bold
And strict attempts would disappear where breath
Is banished. Stylized in God Horus’ eye
Is promise of protection, healing, calm
Contained in white and blue of desert sky.
We cannot hear, though, cymbal, drum and psalm.
The blackest blankness tends a hidden rose
In tombs the opposite of gods’ repose.