SKYSCRAPERS

Conceit's towers carved and culled
from quarries of human bondage,
hoisted as idols to self deification.

Their crumbling corpses littering
the faces of mankind's identity,
always outliving their architects.

Clouds of mortar and steel
one thought could fly
and wrench a crown
from heaven's sky.

Mounds of profile icons
horded as medals
of glory's vain victories.

Lifted as arrogance's citadels
above the cerebral city
where one has a throne.

They are the ruins of pride
which leave their echoes
from the voices of their creators
upon the minds
who see their decaying testimony
to the toil of tarnished textures,
final pillar to vanity's affliction
left as the rectangular label,
marking the place of one's grave.