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Olimpia Stavarache Poem
A clash between two atoms.
An explosion — the Big Bang.
And so it began: with an eruption.
A cry of fire.
A chaotic dance of matter.
A beginning born of rupture.
How could it have been otherwise,
when creation itself began with conflict?
And here we are—
millions of years later—
on a planet of conflict.
A whirlwind of forces,
an endless struggle between people,
between ideas,
between shadows and reflections.
Modern-day gladiators,
fighting for the adoration of foaming crowds,
starved for spectacle,
begging for conflict,
imploring for blood.
Generations have passed,
but the whirlwind has grown.
It feeds.
From bows with poisoned arrows,
to tanks, to cannons,
and now—bombs that can erase continents.
And in the grip of this dance of destruction,
the entire Earth is caught:
the crowd,
the butterfly wings,
the forests,
the rivers,
and the tears of mothers.
Roses and petals,
crushed beneath the boots
of those who cheer.
What a spectacle we've become.
And how dearly
we pay for our silence.
But perhaps...
we are not just echoes of an explosion.
Perhaps we’ve forgotten we carry within us
not only stardust,
but light.
Perhaps,
despite the beginning,
we still can choose.
Copyright © Olimpia Stavarache | Year Posted 2025
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