This poem is inspired by Shelley's "Ozymandias".
The Kingdom Of Bakura
There was a silver-haired youth here once,
Malicious eyes of fire he possessed
He entered into this barren land
Every rock he cursed and kissed and blessed.
For I will make a kingdom of you!
His words rang across the forsaken land
He dug his fingers into the ash,
And created a hundred soldiers from the sand.
Epochs flew, the soldiers toiled,
Cursed to grind forever,
Ring of hammers echo across the parched still air,
As the soldiers chip at the rocks and ether.
The first pillar is constructed, raised up to the skies,
Like a beacon, alone it stands.
For here in this antique desolate desert,
There is nothing but stretches of solitary sand.
Block by block the city is built, like ghosts
Shattered visages slip through the stone,
Any traveller who ventures past
Will be chilled to the core of their heart and bones.
A row of figures line the dust
If one ever walks down the boulevard,
The sardonic frown, cold sneer and leer
Well read, these passions were carved.
He watched the abandoned city,
The last rays of light fell across the beams
Here in this antique derelict desert stands:
The kingdom of fled dreams!
He stands atop the fiery mountain,
And admires his kingdom through the heat,
And as he fades into the Shadows,
He calls:
My work here is complete!
Blank helmeted heads guard the gates,
Of you they are not even aware.
Shiver! You're chilled to the bone
For inscribed upon the gates of stone
Are the words:
Gaze upon my kingdom and despair!
I have tried to create a cold cynical tone to the poem- let me know if I have succeeded or not!