My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair! I am not Oz, that kingdom fair, That wizard's land, That's terra australis. I am not Ozzy, the Osbourne man with family on TV nor a Stryne mayte. I am not Ozman, Agnes, pentecostal The Chinese-speaker, Nor a Turkish dynast. I am not Sir Oz, nor any knight I bear no armour-suit Nor am blest by Queens. My name is Ozymandias, writer of things: Please read my works, make me not despair!
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.