Here a man immures in a lonely island
Sans sword, sans cuirass and sans crown
Like a dethroned king from his kingdom.
He was banished from his castle of thoughts,
By the deeds of the people around him.
They marooned him in a morass isle.
The innate abilities enthroned him as a King
He worshiped truth and justice in his tenure
And crusaded for purity with his prowess.
The benevolent philanthropist loved,
His impecunious people by giving them
The incomputable wealth of his wisdom
That dwelt in the spence of his heart
They genuflected him for his generosity
And enshrined him in their heart’s shrine.
He shined in his white ermine cloth
When oscultated them from his heart’s pulpit
The hail of people surged and echoed there.
His path adorned with crimson carpet
He recited a canticle of his magnum opus
Then a lovely filly bestowed him a rose
He felt as he was in the seventh paradise.
Eloquence of his words brought many to him
The emperors became his cronies.
He was appreciated by his craftness of words
He swept away the worry of the people
An ornamented chair of love he was adorned
In the heart of the people around him.
But that man was marooned by the same people
To a land of hatred and cruelty
To a desert of worries
But he wish to come again to his throne
To regain the regality of thoughts,
To love his unthankful people once again.
On The Rise
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