Monument to a Ruined Man

I see you now.

The magnificent velvet and silk flags of your name
Now fester and rot in tatters.
The ornate gold and jewels, now dull and blackened with age,
Hang limply from the brittle, yellowing scaffolds
Of your admiring subjects, their mouths gaping open in one last,
Mocking cackle,
All loyalty long since disappeared.

And here you stand
Alone in the silence of your own undoing-
No longer a ruler, or even a man, but a shell-
The hands whose wizened palms I once worshipped
Have crumbled slowly into nothing.
Those lips, whose stately curve I once adored,
Now worn and cracked from centuries of smiling.

But your smiles were never intended for me.
How I longed for something more than
The cold, conceited gaze with which I was rewarded.
But time passed, your influence waned, and now you stare emptily
Searching in vain for your salvation.

And here, as your empire dies,
You fall to the ash and dust
And are swallowed by darkness
And whispers echo through the void:
This is your legacy.