Poetry: Persian Guard (part 1)

Bound to guard the simple things, but the heart is somewhere far.

“i can still see the trails…”

I am the lonely guardian
of this ancient Persian palace,
once filled with slaves, rich men-of-honor
and merchants from the shores
faded on the map.

Once a destination for the citizens and peasants
making way across the plains
towards a golden gate;
tired necks are holding heads
curious, with awe,
some fear and plenty pride
for the power of the Shah.

I can still see the trails
with sandal marks on
flattened islands of the grass
scattered dots across the sea of sand.,

Now it’s quiet, empty, and a little sad.
Palace now is out of touch
too small, too old for brand new Shah,
so lays forgotten on the lonely edge of a lost empire
stretching from the desert to the mount above.

Poetry by Vladimir Fischer