The Robots dressed in black don't mourn,
These great walls of natures scorn,
They pass them by and don't look back
To what concrete and steel lack.
This great giant slumbers and snores
Belching dirt and smog,
Which gorge upon the seed nature has sewn,
The hills weep and the trees moan.
But, low, secluded softly lies,
Here beneath the giant's thighs,
A garden shadowed by tall pins
Piercing the heavens that bleed.
Here the giant never wakes,
And murmurs come for murmurs sake.
Dreamlike, hushed, bewitching scents
That cannot touch the battlements.
No stabbing noise or hidden blades,
Are found within the concealed glade.
Nature's beauty does unfurl,
To unclasp its precious pearl.
And here amongst the peaceful groves,
An unknown watcher silently roves.
And when amongst lush grass he lies,
No spot of time can pass him by.