Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis is the name of a man whose writing I admire, not a name I masquerade under.
Apologies to: friend Tenethia South for having titled this poem the same name as her prose piece (which I myself recommend: s/8945063/1/Strike-the-Bell). I have no intention of being a "beastly copy-cat" as one Polly Plummer would put it and indeed, I tried to think of another title, but none fit better.
Here stand I, Jadis –
standing here alone
at the end of all things –
the last but true queen
victorious at last
over what has been,
over what I have seen.
Here lies Charn of kings –
desolate, barren henceforth,
stilled and silenced at last –
now it is forevermore
stripped of all its glory
earned by kings before,
shore to glittering shore.
Here stands palace grand –
crown of the nation,
jewel of the kings –
empty are its halls,
gone its inhabitants:
all is echoing walls
and crumbling falls.
Here rises the red sun –
the weary light of heaven,
the tired cry of victory –
may its eyes fall down
to world that is no more,
world of deadened ground
and of voiceless sound.
Here sit kings of yore –
images of days gone by
of peace and of war –
here sit they to guard
a kingdom passed on
so torn and marred
with blood and battle hard.
Here rest I, Jadis –
proud and cruel,
strong and unmoved –
here I will stay,
if for a thousand years,
till there come a day
I be wakened in this way:
Here stand you, pilgrim –
for far have you travelled
and great your trials, surely –
to learn of the one who quelled
this once-great empire:
break the spell,
strike the bell.
Please review!