Controls the world
With soft power.
But like a limp ****
'Soft power' is only
There when it
Can become hard.

Culture rich, a heart of flame.
A realm upon seven hills it rose.
Barbarian winds blew strong and cold,
The empire is reborn.
Roma Aeterna!
The spirits reigns, through shifting sands and distant plains.
A world reborn,
all roads lead to Rome.

Empires: they rise, then they fall,
nothing can't change their fate.
Even the Ancient Rome
ended in a pitiful grave.

Fools want to rule the world,
claiming the foreign lands,
but waves of time will destroy
the castles they build on sand.

And us - we can save ourselves
from architects of demise
and never give up - never fail,
but in spite of them - always rise!

And no one will take our home,
and no one will make us slaves,
for Freedom is in our souls,
and runs in our blood, our veins.

Let's build the Empire within,
the strongest country of all.
The island no tyrant will take,
no enemy will reach its shores.

No matter how much I have lost,
my head high I'll always hold.
For everything I need to be free
is here - in my heart, in my soul.

From the violence

of two jostling elephants --


the grass is injured.

Shades of yellow cast on our dreams
Skin burning through layers of sunscreen
When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings
Let great powers grow evermore carefree

To satisfy eternity.

Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth
Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool
Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify
Oh for we all must die!

Young and old both playing their games
Seduced by the baits of short-term gains
Unable to afford the bail out of prison
Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction

To satisfy eternity.

Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools
Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe
They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile
Oh for we all shall die!

Whether in shame or in desire
Must we forget all we’ve acquired
For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory
Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy

To satisfy eternity.

The British anthropologist enjoyed rare tribesmen.
But after seeing his article published in the prestigious Journal of Anthropological Research,
he kept the poor man on the coals a little longer,
thinking, "Well done, old chap."

A glass is broken across our backs.
The shards take hold and we wince.
We hoist the world upon our shoulders.
It drives the shards in deep, like tacks.

We suffer the pain of cultured hate.
The daggers destined for our flesh.
Still they expect we lift the empire,
And with our wounds support its weight.

Whether they praise us for being brave,
Or curse our kind to an early death,
They all demand our labor to drive
Production until we hit the grave.

Your name is scrawled
in the sun this morning,
& the lilies are bursting
from their green fists -
new shadows croon
from bedsheet tents,
& tiny kites of frost
play telephone lines
under teacup cumulus:
the world is your empire,
even the white lawn
flaming with winter
under the death's head
evergreen is yours now.
My suitcase eyes
will make delivery
before coffee is served.

In the streets of Delhi advertised on every sign,
Is the British army’s need for you to buy buy buy.
It may cost your turban, your home your family, and the worn clothes.
But it’s for the greater good right? of the empire of them ‘s and those.

When you pass the gender and notice his cracked lips,
And coughing and dying son,
You feel sympathy as you would for anyone.
But you can parch him as your son cant starve too,
And that’s just the law of the untouchable that are below you.

Despite your status being not much better,
You walk a stranger to their leering eyes,
As you were the clean white sashes and ties,
But they don’t realise the shackles you are also in.
As the phrase goes that you see on all the ads.

“You can’t make your own confections,
You can’t save your own possessions,
You can’t even built out of your own wood,
Because for the good of the empire of the greater good,
You will serve to pay the fees that are higher than you can afford to do.”

When you think of that as you walk these deep streets you can’t help walking in a way of shame,
As you know you can’t blame these overlords,
But the submissions and laws of old,
That they stole and now uphold.
Never to be loss of my shackles,
I pass these streets, and go on to Mumbai for the next delivery meet.