Olive Green

They say,

That my eyes

Are as green and ripe as olives

In the summer

That with each day

That passed

The Tree of my life

Grew high

They say

That the Tree

Gave birth to a vast Empire

More greater than ever

Filled with

Rich, green olives

Like the color

Of my eyes

The olives

So round and perfect

Lived not for long

And soon

After years of glory

The Tree finally began

To decline

Olives are me

The same hue

Of the eyes

Of me

Of the man

Who created

The Empire

And once breathed

On this Earth

Descending to the heavens

The Tree is still growing

Majestically

Whenever you see olives

Think of me

Think of me, of my vision

Think of me

Of the man they call Alexander.