Thinking, writing, thinking about writing…

The Greatness of Empire

Singularly inappropriate perhaps for a Monday morning, when we are all ready to attach a new week of work and challenges.  The sun is shining, I am feeling pretty chipper on the whole, but there is always a part of me that responds anxiously to world news…


Once the spleen is vented out

When the ghosts are bed to rest

If the sorrow finds its match –

we shall desist.


With the seas sucked dry of ripples

Where secret forests live, unfold,

As each phrase falls on waxen ears –

We slacken, curled.


An attempt, a jealous grope this,

To woo the caverns of our mind.

Remote echo, no light to blind

The smouldering ruins of our bliss.

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6 thoughts on “The Greatness of Empire

  1. Marina Sofia – This is such a powerful reflection on what’s left when everything else is gone…

  2. Intriguing poem! The spent-ness of after feels universal. I don’t need to know what the “before” was.

  3. Sisyphus47 on said:

    It won’t happen, remember: we escape that, at a price, but we did – hope keeps us going :-*

  4. ‘Hope springs eternal …’ a most reflective poem Marina …

  5. woosha8 on said:

    Great poem – love the rhythm of this.

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