QuarterToThree

Tears In Persia By Maryam S. Columns and pillars, sand and stone. Smooth images carved into the walls. Black marble so shiny, you can see your reflection. Rubies, crystals and diamonds nested in the portraits. The Archway of Nations proudly accepting friends into the city of Persepolis. But it doesn't seem so proud anymore. Where jewels once sat, there are gaping holes. The stone wasn't so black anymore. I turn around, the wind stinging my face, my scarf snapping in the wind. Sitting on the dusty ground, an old man is crying, His rough hands folded over his face. Tears run down his cheeks as he stares at the rubble around him.