Where, metal melted, down, the moor
Smelted, by, Copper-Caravans
There, learnt to endure, for cuprous lure
Medly-miners, reborn, as Alaskans!

For a, million miles, of, cupric need
To hasten, race of, civilization
They farmed, in wasteland, fuel for, our creed
Who founded, heaven, in oblivion

Now, a Ghost-Town, aghast, for the copper, did not last
Ain’t Kennecott, worth, the new world’s, thought
Why present, forsakes, glory, of the past
As, an aging legacy, learns to rot!

Lost towns, are, spent dreams, fogotten
As, old oaths, are, rosaries, often broken
Lay tears, sweat, blood, in verdigris
Bluest shades, of a, broken rhapsody!

Forsaken moor, is it, lost in bliss
For it found, its ethos, in time’s dust
Immortal tomb, of, our avarice
The Lasting Rust, Of, Copper Lust!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra