METAPHOR
MAFIA

After Ozymandias

He put his name on glass and steel,
on acts passed quickly,
on plaques
no longer looked at.Screens carried the face
into every room,
flickering like a signal
afraid of going dark.
Some called it greatness.In time, the buildings will crumble,
their names buried beneath.And the self-praise will survive
as nothing more
than a footnote,
small as a scratch
at the bottom of a page.The statues will melt
like candles left in the sun.And what will remain
is the relief
of a world
that does not stay.—Heart & Mind