This little angel lost her feet to frostbite many years ago. Now she just sits on a
mound of creek rocks and ponders her future.
I met a Traveler from an antique land,
Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them in the sand
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on those lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings.
Look on my works ye Mighty and despair!"
No thing beside remains. Round
The decay of that Colosal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Percy Bysshe Shelly 1818