Sphinx

When the sphinx was once lost in a storm,
neither Ramses,
nor wit,
could recover her then pallid form.
Once begotten through linens, and now torn from her place;
it took twelve slaves nine ages to reassemble her face.
They had shined off her mane,
wiped the snow from her eyes,
yet irreparable thaw,
showed her spirit demise.
Now when travelers come, and demand to be asked
what it is they must answer, in order to pass-
The great cat shy's away
and drops one solid tear
an icy cold snowflake
she resents that she fears.
Still in dreams when she rests
we hear liquid within,
by the time the world sees it
its just frozen again.