When pyramids crumble,
Sand, dust and soot,
used to build the geometry,
of Egypt, the jewel of wonders,
will flow into the,
blue veins of river Nile,
The blood that flows,
out of the heart of Egypt.

When pyramids crumble,
Egyptian souls mirror,
the black wars of the sky,
turning the souls as,
black as coal.
The souls are partitioned,
by the destruction,
of gem of earth,
like earthquake that divides,
a solid, mountainous rock,
into two, exposing the black,
gap, that yawns like,
a cloudless, starless night.
Pharaohs who beheld,
the beauty of Egypt,
in their eyes,
like a pot who beholds,
sunset in his heart,
disregard the crown,
stolen back from Egypt,
by God, who gets bored,
of staring at the triangular,
structures that never vanished,
for thousand years,
just like poetry written by fate,
that stays on our foreheads,
for several lifetimes.
Powerless, despite the spears,
knives, daggers, bows and arrows,
that throb within their hearts,
They are helpless, left to wonder,
why God chose to crush,
the diyas of the afternoon,
by His merciless feet................

nithya raghavan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-pyramids-crumble/