When the Stones Still Speak: A Lament for Ephesus

Ephesus, where marble streets once shone, where merchants cried and pilgrims came, where Artemis ruled the crowded heart and Rome stamped power upon your name.

Here Paul preached Christ for three long years, and stirred both faith and angry trade; here John grew old beneath your skies, and Mary’s memory found its shade.

Now columns fall, the fountains sleep, the theatre echoes only wind; a city once so loud with life lies scattered, broken, left behind.

Yet beneath the dust, the earth remembers. Each careful spade may yet disclose another street, another story, another truth the silence knows.

So, Ephesus is not quite gone: the stones still whisper, faith still hears— and archaeology may yet uncover what time has hidden through the years.