The Fugitive

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  His shatter’d Empire thunders to the ground:
  A myriad hearts peal laughter as it falls,
  While red flags flutter on its ruined walls
  And living joy darts all the world around.
  The imperial criminal, naked and uncrowned,
  Breathing a shuddering air of curses, crawls,
  Baffled and beaten, from his gorgeous halls,
  While Vengeance halloos lapdog, cur and hound.

  Behold the arrogant humbled, and rejoice
  The grasping hand holds naught but flying dust,
  And Envy meets the pitiless grin of Fate.
  Take warning of your own heart’s inward voice,
  Bid your own soul be humble and distrust
  The yelping promises of greed and hate.

© John Le Gay Brereton