The Fall of a Nation
Once, the land was crowned in gold,
A beacon of hope, a dream retold.
Its banners flew in the morning light,
Promising justice, strength, and right.
But empires crumble, as all things do,
Built on foundations too frail, untrue.
The mortar of greed, the bricks of pride,
Collapse in silence where truth has died.
History watches with quiet disdain,
For itβs seen this cycle time and again.
A rise, a reign, a fall, a grave,
The endless march of the strong to the slave.
Yet amid the ruin, a seed may lie,
Waiting for rain, for a clearer sky.
For nations fall, but people endure,
And from the ashes, they find what is pure.
Perhaps one day, from lessons learned,
A brighter flame may yet be burned.
But for now, the walls come tumbling down,
A fallen nation wears its crown.