Introduction
The Shattered Eagle is a poignant examination of constitutional crisis and democratic decay in modern America. Through vivid imagery and elegiac tone, it traces the symbolic fall of the American Republic, using the eagle as a metaphor for a nation once soaring with purpose but now battered by corruption, authoritarianism, and civic erosion. This meditation on institutional collapse examines the deterioration of checks and balances, the rise of illiberal power, and the fraying of democratic norms.
Themes and Significance
The poem critiques the erosion of constitutional democracy, judicial independence, and legislative integrity. It reflects on how demagoguery, partisan dysfunction, and the corruption of public institutions have undermined democratic ideals and the rule of law. Through its exploration of societal polarization and institutional decay, it captures the zeitgeist of a republic in crisis.
Yet amid constitutional peril and democratic backsliding, the poem poses a crucial question about renewal. Its final stanzas challenge readers to consider whether civic restoration is possible through recommitment to democratic principles and constitutional values.
A Poem for Our Times
Rich in metaphor and steeped in political philosophy, The Shattered Eagle invites readers to confront the realities of democratic erosion while contemplating paths to institutional renewal. Drawing on the tradition of great political poetry like Yeats’s The Second Coming and Auden’s September 1, 1939, this work speaks to the universal struggle to preserve constitutional democracy and the rule of law in an age of mounting illiberalism.
The Shattered Eagle
Once soared an eagle, wings outspread,
Its cry a clarion, freedom bred.
From gilded heights, it carved the skies,
Its dreams a nation dared to rise.
Yet winds of discord tore its plume,
Ambition’s torch became its tomb.
The golden thread of union frayed,
As shadows deepened, hope decayed.
Where laws were forged by reason’s might,
Now darkness shrouds their guiding light.
Once sworn to serve the commonweal,
They sold their oaths for power’s appeal.
The halls once rang with measured voice,
Where reason swayed the public choice.
Yet now the chambers echo lies,
As honeyed tongues weave thin disguise.
No laws they craft, but favors they sell,
To oligarchs who cast their spell.
Once stewards strong, they now kneel low,
To serve a leader’s fleeting glow.
The scales of justice, firm and true,
Now tilt, corrupted, favoring the few.
Once blind, now stained with partisan hue,
They take their bribes in plainest view.
No fealty now to law's command,
But whispers guide the justices’ hand.
From lofty heights, the court descends,
A tool for power, not amends.
The eagle's perch, the people's trust,
Now yields to one with tyrannous lust.
The laurels fall, the wreath departs,
A crown is forged for lawless hearts.
No equal here, a king ascends,
While truth dissolves and honor bends.
The oath betrayed, the power abused,
A throne of lies by fear infused.
The wheels once turned to serve the land,
Now falter at one man’s command.
Where duty reigned with steady hand,
Now chaos thrives and rot expands.
The gears once turned with steady grace,
Impartial hands for every case.
Now oiled with fear, the cogs obey,
A sovereign’s whims, the people's dismay.
No law to guide, no truth to bind,
The constitution lies maligned.
The servants sworn to guard the land
Now yield to lash at one command.
Ideals once held as shining beacons,
Now crumble ‘neath the weight of treasons.
Their lofty light, now dimmed and lost,
Is bartered for ambition’s cost.
The shining hill, a beacon high,
Now shrouded 'neath a darkened sky.
Its lofty dreams by greed betrayed,
By hands of those whose hearts decayed.
No vision guides, no ideals inspire,
But petty aims and base desire.
The noble pact, to truth once sworn,
Now trampled, tattered, and forlorn.
A fractured land, a shattered will,
Where hatred reigns and hearts grow still.
What union stood now falls apart,
Its seams undone by poisoned hearts.
The land now split by faction’s line,
Where rancor festers, hopes decline.
The brother turns on brother’s hand,
And hatred scorches all the land.
No union binds, no concord stays,
But discord reigns in endless days.
Society rent, uncivil, torn,
A weary people, broken, worn.
...
A weary people, broken, worn,
Where shadows fall and freedoms mourn.
Yet seeds may bloom, if hearts remain,
Resolved to rise through toil and pain.
Northcoast Antiquarian 