The Empire Poem by Augusta Mendelsohn

At the heart of the benevolent empire
The centers of power
Dot the wide open fields
Blanketed in fresh snow.
The carousel is following
Its own musical rhythm.

Once I felt protected
By the severe serenity
Of the power symbols.
But now, I'm not sure
Which of the giant egos in collision
Have my interest at heart.

This rattle of sabers
Can unleash dark forces
Beyond imagination.
Between Scylla and Carbides
I'm searching for an honest soul.