The Ruins

The crumbling old tower is erected high
Over seventy feet it stands
Reaching its delicate arms into the sky
Leaving our land
For a one full of birds and clouds that soar by
In exchange for dunes of sand
Air cold is nothing but dry
Ringing through a tune from the band

Ringing through a tune for the band
From long ago
With elegant kings
Many people bent low
Work and sing
Much they know
But the strange men bring
A strange wind that blows
The crumbling old tower is erected high

The crumbling old tower is erected high
Years to make
Now unknown
Nearby the nonexistent lake
Where cows once roamed
All that’s left is a tune from the once was band





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