He was but what he was, nobody cares

Or knows. We forgot easily what he might

Have been. And all thought falls into

The remains of this tear-filled parting forever.

Dreams I had, come and dreams I had go,

Leaving nothing but the faintest

Impress of my hair upon a pillow.

Shadows flit across this static air

And the sun-soaked dust rests here in mid-air.

My dreams remain the same from night

To day, scorning the nothingness of the day

Flinging noise into the waking sea of dreams,

Where nightmares born of prescience 

Terrify me. And scare away the vast shipwreck

Of my life’s esteems and so finally lay to rest
This Roman-Greek-Byzantine dream.

Blessed by Hellenic art, architecture, literature we were cursed by a lack of toughness, a lack of fight.

We fell silent in the night  and dawn did not bestir us.

We could not prevent our civilization sinking to defeat beneath the sands of Arabia and we descendied into these unholy sand-blown infidelities..