The place where giants die

I've seen the place where giants die
the ground is flat and always wet
like a vast dingy mirror reflecting the sky
stopped in the distance by heavy grey air

skeletal figures pick at the bones
they cut away armor to patch up their homes
the alive wear no shoes and carry no food
they sleep far away from this place

massive the fallen lie far and apart
from atop one the next lies just within sight
a towering shadow in the heavy grey air
one to the north, and one to the south

only very few still bare life's disorder
netted crooked pillars of rusty red and grey
most long clean are left quite alone
a cathedral of ribs with a great white dome

Nice!

Great poem, and factually true too.

ahh, wonderful imagery and great cadence, I like it

Fantastic imagery! This poem also flows really nicely - each word seems perfectly placed. Nice job.

Thanks for all the kind comments!