My dolmen

Is it a calling,

orders chiseled from granite grey and cold

or written in blood?

Mammoth megalithic monsters

so massive, we struggle for breath

at their site; interred.

Are these edicts

that must be honoured;

LIVE, TOIL, BREED, DIE?

Is there really any point,

are we masters of all we purvey,

or just hairy little rodents

scampering on a wheel?

Author's Note

Can anyone enlighten me?