Whose kingly palms, hot in anticipation
have been calmed,
by the cool roughness of this stony face.
Whose noble mind,
has been set in its resolve,
by the solidity of this seemingly, immovable rock.
Time itself, exudes from this stone of kings,
witness to the splendour of bygone ages
and their majestic coronations.
Now the cool, hard granite face,
brings a sense of history to this thriving city,
awash with new cultures.
Forgotten by the young.
Remembered as in passing, by those whose path is measured.
Put away in a corner,
it continues its legacy,
as a witness in the hands of father time.
As true as the steadily flowing rivers,
whispering past,
never changing pace for a new day,
but remaining, constant.
Out living.
Out lasting.
Ever watching.