Every Empire Thinks It's Last

Every capital carved its name into stone Thinking the name would outlive the throne Ur, and Uruk, and the cities on the Nile Built like the story stopped there, built to last a while

Every empire thinks it's the last one standing Writes its laws in marble, starts commanding The tide, the weather, the neighboring lands Then the tide comes back in on somebody else's hands

Rome thought the roads would run forever straight Every road led somewhere, none led to a gate That could close, but it did, slow, then all at once Salt in the fields, silence where the forum was

Every empire thinks it's the last one standing Reads its own reflection and calls it understanding Trade routes shift, or the rain stops, or the debt comes due And the marble that stood so sure gets swallowed by the view

A collapse is just a shape that a story takes Something rises from the dust an old empire makes New language on the same street, new flag on the same hill People still trading, still dancing, still building still

Every empire thinks it's the last one standing So did the last one, so will the next one landing On top of us, someday, calling this the old world too That's just what a long, unfinished story does