Standing atop the strong wall, he silently stared,
Watching the restless weak...no longer scared,
He felt the thinning strength of his strong mind,
Quietly reflecting on his injustice to mankind.
An invincible king he was, soon to be in a heinous grave,
A tyrant in the past, now...a would be prostrate slave,
The winds were his, they obeyed him...the master,
The winds have changed...fading away...faster, faster...
The walls beneath him have become weak,
Their chances of survival are bleak,
Brutal, misery tales are all they speak,
Salvation from drudgery is what they seek.
The king's reign is coming to an end,
He wants to be reborn...to restore...mend,
His muted apologies, he wants to send,
All his blunders, faults...he wants to tend.
No company he has, no one hears him,
The hitherto daylight has become dim,
His heartbeat's the only happy sound,
Six feet tall...six feet of ground...
The distant, agitated roars come nearer,
Visions of an impending death are clearer,
The finale of an era...a stark age,
The birds freed from a hideous cage.
He sees the faces...feels his warm blood,
He sees the hate...feels the watery flood,
He sees the joy...feels the tangy guilt,
The walls crumble...they blissfully wilt..
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