The Emperor Poem by Rebekah Gamble

He sits and smiles
in a forbidden city aglow
with pleasure and excess
on a throne draped in yellow.

His face is a map
that shows exploits and command
of the whole world
in the palm of his hand.

He fulfills his passions;
war's a game willing
him to be blind
to the blood he's spilling.

His garments are fine
and clean and bright,
but shadows of sin
dance in the folds' respite.

He sits and he smiles
in pleasure and excess,
blind to the pain of his nation,
blind to his own madness.

4 march 2oo8