In My Empire... Poem by indira babbellapati

I'm the emperor
of my unique empire.
Just as you, I'm born,
nurtured, and go back
to the same soil that
has borne, nurtured and
draws you back into its fold.
You remained a pauper
I, a ruler; I don my head
with a crown of thorns yet
I feel I'm clad in choicest petals of sorts;
yes, I'm the emperor of my empire.
Every night my bed of thorns beckons me.
Lo, when sleep embraces me,
i sleep on a bed of roses
soothing the pricks on my
skin. You blow the war bugle,
and i counter it
blowing the conch of victory.
I'm the emperor of my empire.
I occupy
every nook and corner
of this earth covered by
the same soil seemingly
different...i don't claim it as mine,
as you do.
My hands are empty.
My heart is full.
I stand on the same soil as you do.
I know it's not mine or yours;
I'm the emperor of my empire...