Remember me, but never speak of my misery.
Write my name into the book of history.
With prints to read,
You’ll never forgive and forget my greatness,
So take this
And make it
Into something other than fake bliss.

This land seems different now - it looks so vacant and empty,
So spacious yet letting the vast forest deface its setting.
This land holds many memories for me - some I’m not happy to see,
But I’m not going to let them be buried in dirt by the trampling feet
Of mother Earth -
Yet that sunset reminds me of the bloodshed I once longed for,
And when it trickled down my cheek - its taste made me so much stronger.
This is the land “I” conquered - the land were I was drawn in,
I was the one who pried it from my enemies’ dead grasp,
And made it as I saw fit -
And those tall slender trees were once milestones that were scored
By the heavy slashing of the blade on the end of my sword.
I remember the sweet smell of victory - which my enemies would never see,
But now the undergrowth covers those ancient footprints and memories
That I once had - but for some reason - I feel like I’m losing respect,
Because now this torn amour is forever tattooed to my chest.

Back then the scene was different - it was stained by blood on my hands,
The land was barren with a meandering river that sculpted the land.
There was no undergrowth or no leaves to make those shadows,
There was just that red sunset - which lingered on the day of battle.

I had the shortest fuse - the grass had been trampled by horses’ hooves,
And each fatal swing of the blade scarred and scorned the wood.
I breathed in as we faced our enemies - my eyes were stern and narrow,
While behind me stood my archers aiming their burning arrows.
My eardrums thumped - the calmness before the storm grew higher,
But then the sound of war exploded as I screamed - “FIRE”.
A hail of arrows fell from the sky as I swore to death and honour,
While watching the arrows fall from grace leaving torn flesh and armour.
I led the advancing charge - my cavalry galloped behind me,
Our hearts beat through our chests and the horses pounded the grass beneath.
I swung my sword to the left and right - and it sent chills
Up my spine to watch blood pulsate from their chest before my next kill.
The enemies would fall in a heap to the ground from swing after swing,
Until there was only one enemy left - the Persian King.
My cavalry had encircled him - and I’m not going to pretend or lie,
But each of them were as anxious as I was to end his life.
The circle partly opened - I galloped in with my soldiers in front of me,
Then hopped off the saddle – and my boots kicked up dust from underneath.
I walked towards the whimpering Emperor and looked over
Him - then I drew my sword from its holder and rested it on his shoulders.
I said to him - “He who is about to die will suffer forever more,”
Then the sun dipped -
And with one swing -
The blood dripped from his chest upon my sword.
The final enemy was slain - I looked down upon his shredded armour,
Then looked around the bloody landscape that was littered with his dead army.
Victory stained my lips - the Persians had lost to my bravado and grace,
And now had been born the foremost leader of all -


Alexander the Great.

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