Upon each stone, a face: a soul denied And left to linger on this beach of lies, That rings the turbid sea where kings reside. This is the place a dream goes when it dies. And huts and towers high each take a stone, To rest beneath the basement, dark and sealed, With all the things we'd rather leave unknown. A stony beach becomes an empty field. When next a roof is raised, and gods demand The soul of one a monster newly named, Who will be lost to honour the command? Who live on knowing that a life was claimed? In dreams I saw the place these stones are laid; My waking mind forgets — or is afraid.