trying to recall the native prime tunes.
Fearing oblivion, he moved a step far,
with nothing but himself to mar.
The war clarions loomed in air,
as he shrieked in despair.
Dry faces and parched lips,
scattered unkempt hair and sweat at the tips.
Dying soldiers and dying hope,
The eager eagles soared in the blue sky.
Just waiting for the defeated men to die.
The hot wind went past the panting corpses.
reminding the Leader of his trotting horses.
Wide open mouths, half closed eyes
with young suitors in the troop biding the last goodbyes.
The Ambition started fading,
the thirst to win over the world was now dying.
regretting his will to begin this cursed beginning.
The conqueror of the World,
had a desire to be always pearled,
to see his flags all spread in vastness,
to feel his reign as the bravest lioness.
With valor as his only weapon,
Battled through the inhabited forests.
Revolted, mutinied clad in his metal vests.
Looted kingdoms and destroyed the cultures.
The money couldn’t save them from the hungry vultures.
The indefatigable could not now revolt the inevitable,
thus he was rendered regrettable.
What was he now left with?
The Great Alexander was at his final retreat.
His toiled labor and empire so neat,
had eventually lost their master.
since then, ages have rolled away faster.
Neither could oblivion erase Alexander the Great,
nor his final retreat.