Antique and vast things fall apart,
shattered upon the world.
The blood-visage lies loosed,
wrinkled innocence is drowned,
the best of passions survive.
Some lifeless revelation troubles the heart.
Somewhere, the head of a man is moving its shadows.
The darkness drops these words:
“Know my name, my works, my nightmare.”
Remains of that boundless beast
stretch to be born.
Erin Marie Hall, 2017
Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Second Coming, by William Butler Yeats