Statues in the Valley

The desert sands blow over the ruins
Hollowed out relics
Ancient hands of glory
No longer wielding power

Faces in the desert sea
Marching over the bones of history
the pilgrims come to pray
beneath the beating sun and stinging heat

Night falls
covering the pilgrims in darkness
and the ash of the ancients
till all is still in the valley once more

And still the pocked marked monoliths stand
Waiting and watching
for more blood to feed them.