Once crowned with gold, now draped in dust,
A throne reduced to fleeting gust.
The jewels that shone, the banners that flew,
Are shadows of echoes no longer true.

The hands that hailed now turn away,
The loyal hearts have gone astray.
Alone he stands where once was might,
A king undone by fortune's slight.

He asks the wind, the earth, the skies,
"What purpose remains when glory dies?"
But silence speaks, its lesson stern:
From loss is born the strength to learn.

Rise not as king, but as a man,
Forge anew with your own hand.
In ruin's ashes, seeds do sow
What's lost must fade, but life will grow.