Power and military acumen to the mighty king
were  the true weapons of conquest in his possession,
til the time marauding made him squirm with pleasure
went on his trail of terror, destruction and subjugation.
Many wars won;no bloodbath to this iron willed one
ever seemed different from any other, victory was routine

then came a rare moment of pause, a sudden bend
in the path of a roaring river,initiating change.

"It's time to put down this blood splattered crown
envy of others, but  weighing me heavily down"
Frenzied, in no time he removed the thorny crown
and every bit that embellished him from head to toe
in naked glory he stood before the mirror, but why
couldn't he look for a long moment in his own eyes?

"All I see is an architecture of muscles, nerves and blood
on a skeletal frame, no different it is from any other
just lingering  further, all one can see is  dead matter waiting
to dissipate in to elements, when the time rings bell"
(words of his Guru, long long forgotten, came alive)
"The bird is  bound to this cage,with elements for a time
in a flash, it would pass,where then is the bird's true abode?"

All the wars won, achieved only the creation of cycles of pain
countries taken over by brute force,women taken as trophy,
loads of gold, diamonds and riches; just footnotes of an epitaph

"To search and find what really matters, that transcends time"
was the famous last words, before the conqueror's renunciation.