Kingdom of Dust

Walls fall and towers crumble
on the idle and the just.
No Jericho or wrath of god,
no Gomorrahan rocks upon the sod:
just the kingdom of dust.

Stones moan and castles tumble
on the edifices of lust.
No damned in Bam, no Baghdad dead,
no Babel blown upon its head:
just the kingdom of dust.

Eyes cry and tears make humble,
bright steel must come to rust.
No dhimmi, sect or parishad,
no blood spilt in Ahmedebad:
just the kingdom of dust.

Sighs die in life’s sere jumble,
all love; all joy; all trust.
No hope for the near or far-horizoned,
no prayer or chant with gods bedizened:
just the kingdom of dust.

Nigel Holt

If you've any comment on this poem, Nigel Holt would be pleased to hear from you.