The temple built in days of old
Testified of eternal souls
But did they save a one? I ask.
The pyramids were made of stone,
But their beauty cannot atone
The price of blood and sweat they spilled.
When fortresses and castle spires
Became the buildings men admired,
Many more starved under straw roofs.
But the ages came and went.
Stone crumbled and iron bent.
Gods and men forgotten in the dust.
Ephemeral thoughts, as the soul,
Unlike buildings age must fold,
We appreciate now rather than then.
Thanks to Sammi Cox for this prompt. I haven’t written a poem in… 3? 4 years? It’s been quite some while, and this was very rough. Let me know what you think; I have no training in poetry and can’t judge this very well. I also am not certain this is a ballad, but you can sing it to The Killing of Georgie, which I am pretty sure is a ballad.