I stand here thinking what I'd see
If I could see through all eternity
The great stone works, in proud defiance
Raised, by men against the passing days.
The great stone blocks of thick cement, the
Harsh angular windows in mute lament
For all those whom have passed within.

Squares and arches speak through the ages.
The subtle designs are like the pages
of some well thumbed, and loved, book.
The rooms within are tiny nooks
In which the personalities of hundreds
Are hidden. If only we could plunder
The timeless secrets locked within
Each door's foolish grin.