On the highest level
of this sacrosanct city,
the new king sighs,
looks at the firmament
and imagines the horde
his conquest will bring,
a new nemesis replacing him.
Who will the next be?
Too many countries, tribes, faiths,
to even give an educated guess.
Many nations were enthralled
by this very same venture,
bewitched by scriptures,
bypassing the divine gist,
anthropomorphizing a God
reduced to buildings, ancient rocks,
legends, fables, myths.
Obstinate peoples
enchanted by creeds, cults,
obsessed with the idea
of holding a piece of ground.
A meet-cute between men and land,
a shared dream, a wish, a hope
concatenated between generations,
for a soil they never
put their feet on.
All the bloodshed, what for?
Wonders the new king.
For Nothing.
Sighs.
For Everything.