In twilight's haze where shadows meet,
Two mighty souls their presence greet,
Charlemagne, in armor clad, so grand,
And Napoleon, with crown in hand.

Beneath the ancient oak they stand,
Where time’s long river carved the land,
Two emperors from different days,
Engage in talk, a rarest gaze.

Charlemagne, with voice like ancient drum:
"Young Corsican, what have you become?
A conqueror, a king, a name of fear,
But where’s the peace you sought to steer?"

Napoleon, with fire in his eyes,
Replies with passion, bold, yet wise,
"Peace, dear Charles, is a fleeting breath,
In war’s embrace, we dance with death.
I sought to bind this fractured land,
Yet found it like a shifting sand."

Charlemagne nods, a knowing grin,
"France has seen many rise,...