The Fall Of The Kingdom

The Fall Of The Kingdom

A Poem by Shubham's View
"

Inspired to an extent by Macbeth and the desire to pen a tragedy

"


The Fall of a Kingdom


There was once a time,

When I was king,

And the world was mine.

The twangs of bows and arrows,

Made disappear,

All my sorrows.

I lived and unhesitatingly lied,

To win over the people,

Whose hearts were mystified.

I was revered by the very Nature and Earth,

The wood from its best trees,

warmed during winter,

My chaste hearth.

My court was large and titanic,

With learned people from far and wide,

It appeared beautiful and majestic.

Songs of my courage and valour were sung,

By minstrels and bards,

And the village children carrying dung.

Mighty I was, also proud and vain,

Was looked up to by my peers,

With respect and hidden disdain.

Thus I ruled for a few years,

But,for an incident,

Which turned around my fears.

My castle was set on fire,

By enemies, and foes,

Who immediately bore the crucible of my ire.

However,I came back home only to find,

My dear ones burnt,

To ashes,to ashes,

Me,left alone physically and in mind.

By overbearing grief,I was overtaken,

My jesters and ministers,

At this worried and shaken,

My kingdom cried at my plight,

But their suffering was by no means like mine,

It was,as though,my soul

To the Devil,had taken flight.

On that very day,I lost all aggression,

In front of an empire,I swore,

Never to touch another weapon.

In a few days I had aged,

So many decades,I feared,

I would die in this misery, completely caged.

I watched everything disinterested,

While my kingdom fell,

To mutiny and invasion,

That was the chance for which some had waited,

Me?What would I do caught in this wild dream?

Everything was a haze,

Besides watching my family scream.

I was simply good for nothing,

I wondered,after all,

was life worth living?

I went to my room,

On the day my enemies charged the citadel,In full battle ware,

Looked at myself in the mirror,

Drew out my gleaming sword,which,

For others had always spelt doom,

Passed it right through my heart,

Which was to say completely bare.

There was once a time,

When I was king,

And the world was mine!

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

© 2012 Shubham's View


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Reviews

Power is given and lost. What rests is the memory of it all. A memory like a written word as found in this poem. Great work, don't make a habit out of it, or you make me read them all...

Posted 11 Years Ago


Shubham's View

11 Years Ago

That's the plan! A memory is not all however, because live memories don't live for long.
..... ....!!! ...!!!!!! My expression the three times I read this. It's so amazing that you could capture such unique imagery in writing. The only thing I had a problem with (but maybe you like it this way) is that the ending went too fast. Not that he killed himself or anything, but the last three lines seemed to come up too fast. I would've liked a little something more in between the death and the reiteration of the first lines (nice way to end, by the way). Where was I? Oh, yes. I absolutely LOVED it. That's right. I loved it so much I had to capitalize 'loved'.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Shubham's View

11 Years Ago

No, sadly I have only a vague recollection of it eve existing, a duck? Why a duck? How about a gosli.. read more
Becca Bishop

11 Years Ago

I'm seriously going to have to stop reading your comments so late at night. I start laughing and the.. read more
Shubham's View

11 Years Ago

Well then you can always be the early bird, they'll thank you for being the rooster.
Will pin.. read more

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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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197 Views
2 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on September 1, 2012
Last Updated on October 4, 2012

Author

Shubham's View
Shubham's View

Bangalore, India



About
A Jack of "almost" all trades who believes that this is a topsy turvy world we live in... more..

Writing