They say he was a man with a heart of steel,
Perhaps ‘tis true, he was spawned by the devil,
For he stops at nothing and cares for no one,
Not for pleas for mercy nor for his own son.
But then I look back and vaguely remember
the warm glow in his eyes when he looked at her,
A putty in her hands that powerful man
who could ruthlessly kill with his own bare hand.
A saying goes ‘some women can succeed in
making a man give up even his honour’,
But oh what dire fate often befall men for
that one creature who could melt his stony heart
died; And oh along with her his love for life,
See, the last tears of Joseph were for his wife.
To Joseph Stalin's Wife...the one he truly loved: Ekaterina Svanidze
who i do not really know... it's just that
while studying the russian revolution
there was this story about how ruthless Stalin was.
And that he said that the last time he shed a tear
was when his wife died.
I made this sonnet thinking how maybe
things would've been different...if she hadn't died...she could've changed him...
she could've done something...she could've stopped him...
maybe not. still...i can't help but wonder...
since they say that the power of love
supersedes all rules..