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Empires

So much for the thrill of rule, of control, I've had my fill, though I've burdened no throne. Tis a small, poisoned mind temptation stole, and loaned cursed gold no greed could condone. Natural to men - are we not born in fear? - to see our brothers as foes at our throats. Each offer of help a well-disguised sneer. Each curious word an assault o'er our moats. Swords are drawn! Scowls are flashed! We all conspire, trapping ourselves in dark walls - tis our fate! To the offense! Or your life shall expire. Feed your ambitions - the world shall not wait. O my soul - tis enough! If I must die, I wish to see joy, not pain, in their eye. 14 April 2020

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The Grahamburglar

Date: 5/25/2020 3:19:00 AM

Every now and again, I swing by to see what you've been writing. I'm never disappointed. You're very talented with these sonnets of yours. I really liked this one. It speaks to a lot of my frustrations with society. Thanks for sharing your talent my friend. I hope you're well.

J. I. Thomas F.
Date: 6/2/2020 10:18:00 PM

A heartfelt thank you! My family and I are well, though still uncertain as many are for the future. It's probable this poem drew subconscious inspiration from several of your own. I also hope you and yours are happy, healthy, and prosperous. Looking forward to more of your own poetic offerings ...