I often wonder what moved those ancient scribes
To etch their cuneiform, hieroglyphs or runes
Into the hard and unforgiving record of their tribes,
Relating the wax and wane of kings and moons.
Did they sense their words would be all that’s left for us
Who fervently pour over weathered tablets and stones,
Squinting to see an elusive world in bas-
Relief, carved on a faërie kingdom’s sacred bones?