The Ruler


The place was lonely
Nobody cared.
So much to say
None to sit and stare.
The gaze was down, the voice was low
The king was there, sans the crown.
Down to the earth, the minaret had come.
The ruler had lost.
What was left was filthy crumb.

The dreams broken, the days dark as nights
Aimless, goal less was our knight.
Life was threatening, signaling its end.
Horrified was the ruler with the steep descend.

Unknown were, the paths of failure
The ruler understood, life is not always merrier.
With the past glory at stake and for sheer namesake
The ruler rose from the dust
Pointing the sword still devoid of rust.
"I cannot go down, without fighting," the ruler declared.
"Who cares, if there is none to sit and stare."
Life is the name of struggle
Face the heat, return the giggle.

The paths are dusty, stony and steep
Life teaches you not to sit, crib and weep.
Come forward, take the sword
It is in struggle, you find God.

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