My Empire Poem by Anirban Dasgupta

My empire lies in the turbid thought-pools of the mind,
gently tossing lukewarm gurgles,
around the fair ankles of your feet,
nudging gently at their golden bells,
but failing to make them ring.

My empire lies in the shifting sands of soliloquy,
throwing dim silhouttes of slim lines,
capturing the captivity of your winding graces,
calling softly with their charms,
but failing to make me move.

My empire lies in the wastelands of defeat,
tired in homage to countless kings,
scorched by battles between demons and dragons,
crashing soundlessly from the sky,
but failing to make me weep.