11-23-2025, 05:31 AM
"Gorky's Park"
Their faces fade beneath the patient sky,
These idols placed where passersby forget;
In quiet exile, failed empires lie.
The river keeps no records of the debt,
No marching songs rise from the silent stone;
Giant idols lie scattered in neglect.
Lenin leans sideways on his fractured throne,
A worker propped beside him, holding a star,
While Stalin’s smirk sinks lower, left alone.
Rows of figures, an iconic bazaar
whose dialectic slowed history's pace,
Lying now haphazardly, as they are.
A child points up at granite’s vacant face,
Heedless of the dead men's murderous eye,
Wandering about this ominous place.
Their faces fade beneath the patient sky;
In quiet exile, failed empires lie.
Their faces fade beneath the patient sky,
These idols placed where passersby forget;
In quiet exile, failed empires lie.
The river keeps no records of the debt,
No marching songs rise from the silent stone;
Giant idols lie scattered in neglect.
Lenin leans sideways on his fractured throne,
A worker propped beside him, holding a star,
While Stalin’s smirk sinks lower, left alone.
Rows of figures, an iconic bazaar
whose dialectic slowed history's pace,
Lying now haphazardly, as they are.
A child points up at granite’s vacant face,
Heedless of the dead men's murderous eye,
Wandering about this ominous place.
Their faces fade beneath the patient sky;
In quiet exile, failed empires lie.