Follow your heart

Marina Eugenie di Cervini (2024)

Marina E. di Cervini is a distinguished writer, documentary producer, speaker, lawyer, and coach, with a career spanning over three decades. Her work explores themes of love, identity, resilience, and humanity’s intricate connection to the world, blending timeless storytelling with universal truths. Her debut in the trilogy, FOLLOW YOUR HEART, introduces Françoise de Chambord, a heroine of remarkable depth and courage. Set against a rich tapestry of cultural and emotional landscapes, this luminous tale examines the delicate balance between personal desires and destiny, inviting readers into a journey of profound self-discovery. The journey continues in Marina’s second book, "MY WAY", and concludes with the powerful "THE PRESIDENT’S ADVISER", both of which deepen her exploration of resilience, leadership, and the enduring pursuit of purpose. Marina E. di Cervini’s storytelling is a celebration of the human spirit, offering readers a profound connection to life’s most essential truths.

I DROPPED MY SWORD IN BATTLE

“After a long day as a lawyer, exhaustion weighed on me like armour I couldn’t remove. It was as if I had fought a battle only to discover there was no victory. I poured my weariness into these words…”

I dropped my sword in battle’s haze,

A weary knight through endless days.

My armour fractured, my spirit worn,

A silent witness to wars I’ve borne.

I left my demons in the dust,

But still, they clawed, relentless, just.

No laurel crowns, no victor’s prize,

Just thorn-strewn paths beneath grey skies.

The cross I carried, sharp and cold,

Has bent my back, no strength to hold.

I sought the light in fleeting dreams,

But found instead life’s fractured streams.

Why does fate’s flame so fiercely burn,

Only to fade, its embers churn?

The ash takes root where passion lay,

And life, once bright, dissolves to grey.

My soul, unbound, begins to rave,

Immortal spirit, mortal slave.

The poison tempts, salvation calls,

Yet shadows stalk these hallowed halls.

A knight once stood within my chest,

Now he lies still, resigned to rest.

With trembling hands, I lift my plea:

Is peace found only in the sea?

The veins that pulse, the silvered strands,

The fleeting strength of faltering hands—

I search the skies, the earth, the sword,

And find no solace, save the Lord.

Through battlefields of endless night,

I march alone, devoid of light.

Yet hope, a whisper soft, delays—

Perhaps the dawn will bring my day.