An Empires Fall Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A seedling bloomed, a nation strong,
Two centuries and a half, now long.
But whispers rise, of changing tides,
As power shifts, and something hides.

The heart within, feels weary, worn,
Great gaps grow, as fortunes are torn.
Debts climb high, a heavy chain,
And comfort sought, above the plain.

Too many wars, on distant lands,
With stretching out, of helping hands.
But strength misused, can make one weak,
As cracks appear, that loudly speak.

A doubt takes hold, a losing faith,
In what was true, on freedom's path.
The shining dream, begins to fade,
A fallen star, a life decayed.