Sonar waves splash to the shores of Carthage,
Distant echoes of a future gone lost.
Diamond and copper sparkle with awe
But the sand; Oh, the sand carries cost.

Coasts of eluding sea lines drag for miles,
Centuries' ways rinse the carnage of rage
While the planes, casting jet streams above,
Slowly cross mark the death of an age.

Caged by the pages of dusk,
And now holding concrete and steel,
The city yet breathes through men
Who are seeking their fate to appeal.

As a desert deserted to the warm western winds
Spreading its wrinkles, line after line,
Carthage is citied with the scent of its past;
Bones are now dust, coating fractures of time.