Visions of Machu Picchu

I walk over archeology relics of ancient times and I, fall as Tlaloc dreams with obsidian eyes and pulls me in, A High Priest wields the dagger as a virgin weeps of manna, blood drips as the sacrifice triples the alliance fell a Jaguar stalks in maize lines, clay stones inlaid with gold symbols direct to Huitzilopochtli’s throne in codices the prickly pear reads of eagles swallowing snakes bearing the fruit of prophets welling from sacred earth, the muse crumbles in the history of the Mayans but a prophecy ever specks with the tongue of Nahuatl a vision of Machu Picchu emerges