As he said
we met again
in foreign lands
in persuit but leisurely
for the time has passed for the passions and sacrifice;
those hallmarks of a young man's game.

His knees damp with dew from the long blades of glass
watching silently the released rapture and celebration of youth
he is prostrate, as ever, before the Temple of Dawn
discovered and destroyed, all in an instant

or behind the books where at once was revealed what he had looked for again
I observed the voyeur and found that he was watching me

for here too there lies the Temple of Dawn
born and decayed and rebirthed once more

And, despite the conflagaration of the flames, his quest complete
only for her to be reclaimed, unlike those before her, in seeming accident
without warning of when or where
the cycle will be complete
nevertheless, he prepares to go to battle again,
then into eternity

and I too will leave, for now
these golden spires
fully aware that time will again have me brought,
broken once more
at the Temple of Dawn:
created, scented, forgotten by the second
just to begin again

Whether in success or failure, sooner or later time must lead to disillusionment...