I stood in the forsaken market-place
Of an old and long-forgotten ancient race;
Before the palace of some great Sultan
As the pale moon was seeking his lost face.
But think ye, that tomorrow I may be
As much forgotten an unmourned as he.
I, myself, in this mighty universe,
Am but a pebble in a boundless sea!
Printed from: eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/677
Printed on: November 22, 2024