Title: Stones Remember Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker stands among ruins—once a palace, a gate, or a marketplace. Their voice carries both authority and fatigue.)
Monologue:
I watched it rise—
not all at once, not with trumpets,
but brick by brick, promise by promise.
Empires are born quietly.
They begin as hunger, as fear,
as the simple wish to last longer than yesterday.
I was young when banners first filled the sky.
Order felt like mercy then.
Laws were shields, borders were hope,
and power wore the mask of protection.
We believed strength would keep us safe.
We were half right.
(Pauses, voice darkening.)
Then the empire grew—
and growth demanded more.
More land. More loyalty. More silence.
What was once defense became appetite.
What was once unity became obedience.
And we learned too late
that an empire never asks whether it should—
only whether it can.
I watched names disappear.
Languages soften into whispers.
Stones rise where homes once stood.
We called it progress.
We called it destiny.
It was easier than calling it theft.
(Softening.)
When it fell, there were no speeches.
No dramatic collapse—
just empty streets, broken statues,
and people pretending they had always known
this could not last.
Empires do not die loudly.
They decay while insisting they are eternal.
Now I stand among what remains.
Children play where generals once ruled.
Grass cracks the stones we swore were permanent.
History will argue about dates and causes.
I will remember faces.
(Quiet resolve.)
If there is a lesson carved into these ruins,
it is not about power or glory.
It is this:
no empire is immortal—
but every human cost is.
(The speaker touches the stone, then turns away.)