Atop the Twin Towers
From the top of the world of man Steel arched and graced by girder, I see the river race, The placid calm of the market of mammon, Coming afar about the island’s tip, Seeking trade in cargos gold, For precious agate, amber rare, Through old Palmyra’s gates, Dawning over Hecatompolis. Mighty mistress... Sign in to see full entry.