---

Black hearths,

long crumbled,

still stains

from flames,

remain.

Unseen,

stones fall

to smother fertile soil.

Day after day,

piles hundred

on thousands.

Duchy of Brittany,

palace and prison,

where bones of

master and slave

rot incognizant,

to class, country

or creed.

All beneath my feet.

Monuments to monarchs

long forgotten,

where now all are free to tread.

Spires of massive towers

loom to survey

old rivers, fields,

kingdom's groves.

Feathers, snakes, wildcats

slowly drift and roam,

over dominions

of moss covered stones.

Beneath my feet,

lives of toil,

collapse into the fertile soil.

Wind and rain!

Dismantle what remains.

Wind and rain!

True rulers in this domain,

of monuments to monarchs

long forgotten.