The emperor sat down in pure exhaust.
The war was over, everything was lost:
His empire and rule was stricken down.
His lands and title taken, and his crown.
The warrior sat down in pure exhaust.
The war was over, everything was lost:
His house burnt down, his brothers fallen, and
His wife and children banished from their land.
The peasant fell and laid in pure exhaust.
The war was over, everything was lost:
Two fingers and the sight of his left eye,
His wife and children gone without goodbye.
The emperor sat down in pure exhaust.
The war was over, everything was lost.
And yet, he still had health, a home, his life,
all his children, and his royal wife.
© Michael Hitzelberger, 26.04.2025
Bild: „The Battle, Herstmonceux Medieval Festival, Herstmonceux Castle“ by vic_burton is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
Kategorien: Gedicht
Schlagwörter: Englisch