Ruin Where Greatness Once Ruled

Ruin where greatness once ruled,
shambles where legends formerly roamed,
archaic evidence of once success
now mocked with the deceased drones.
The stories of past conquests,
of conquerors, of rulers of crowds,
who were at the top of the mountain they marched
while full of strength and so proud:
they shouted the orders,
the instructions for an opponent's dismantling,
their soldiers attacking in unison
just as they were in chanting.
The rulers would send
their men on the hunt, the search,
as they would watch it all
from their thrones, their comfort, their perch.
The rulers directed their choirs
of violence, punishment, and crime,
something for which all
the subjects would make time.
The rulers would tell subordinates
exactly what to do and move to make
as they themselves would stay out
of violence's and danger's rake.
The rulers pillaged vigorously,
mercilessly, fervently, angrily, too,
taking no prisoners in their way,
but always doing what they were trained to do,
until the fear within them
out of which their actions came
no longer inspired them
but only brought failure and shame.
Suddenly the mountain upon which
they ruled with such dominion
crumbled under their feet
as their inevitable faltering was no longer opinion.
They fell flatly on the faces
that once wore the pride
they would never before dream
to attempt to hide.
Now no amount of status
they would ever hide behind
could save their souls from that
destiny they ultimately would find...

Ruin where greatness once ruled,
shambles where legends formerly roamed,
archaic evidence of once success
now mocked with the deceased drones...