I read the logs of an expedition Which said: Under the earth a web of stone Spires stands. Nearby, the careful excavation Revealed depictions of an animal unknown That varied greatly in its muted hue, Showing us these people valued beauty: The grimaced face disdains the blue. How quaint to hate a colour absolutely! And on a metal plate these words appear: 'This place is not a place of honour, there Are no great deeds commemorated here.' The mining continued. Deep underground, Through thick black concrete, we persevere. And won't stop until an ancient secret's found.