Lonely Titans – a poem

Calls in the stone world where old bones dream,

Titanic bodies bleached by starlight turned cold

From those interstellar voids, warmth kept at bay

By those grand distances formed from stardust.


Quietly bellow those stained titans of stone

Upon their funeral pyre of burning sands,

For casual wanderers to hear, to stop by

Their infernal resting place and hear all woes.


Consigned to fiery torment of rest beneath skies

Lacking respite from a dwarf’s brutal fusion flames,

These titans lay submerged in sands far removed

From the world where they hailed, of ordinary size.



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