The King of Kings,
That's what he is called.
He made big empires
And won all his brawls.
His mighty strength
Could change the epics
In all the directions
Were his relics .
His pride was too much high ,
To be conquered by anyone .
His empire was in his warmth ,
As he was their rising Sun.
In the cry of battle hours,
He crushed all his enemies .
He was truthful and loyal,
But was unaware of his frenemies .
The person he trusted most ,
Gave him an unhealable scar.
No one else than his own brother,
Told him everything is fair in love and war.
In the jail he decided not to mourn.
He was strong willed and stubborn.
He told himself, He will rise high
Because no one can stop the rising sun.
He is the true king of kings ,
Lost All, but not the hope
His determination, will and
Strength marked no stop .
He took a deep breath;
So long that a decade passed.
He returned to silent wrath inside,
To claim the all that honour lost.
He showed them all,
Of what he is made.
Fought and conquered
With the power of blade
Again he proved it;
And returned to throne.
Determination, Morality and hope,
Are a King's real Crown.
