The Colossus of Rhodes
The intellect behind you
Were great without measure
Such that your fame grew
A poweful you, a life treasure.
Helios still would be glad
Gifted hands who thought him
up
The beauty of your stood
The fame that you had
Like the running over of a cup
Your sight inspired every mood.
Even at your wash
The jealousy of the land
Who ruined a huge you
Your fame still a crush
Of every gifted hand
To tell of your tale so true.
Though great was your fall,
In my poetry you mightily stand
tall.
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