ye great kings

Oh ye great kings and conquerors of old,
What greatness was held within your breast,
Why did the gods shower favor unto you,
Or was it just a happy coincidence,
Twists of fate and favorable births,
Right time right place,
Born a prince in ancient times,
When the populace was still scant?
Lucky from the start,
Pushed along by happy fates,
Technology and technique,
A phalanx for Alexander,
Sturdy horsemen for Genghis,
A collapsing empire for Attila,
Tricks and idiosyncrasies to pave the way,
All the planets and stars in perfect alignment.
Long dull days of quiet desperation for me,
Dying a little bit more with each passing one,
Longing for some glorious test,
Living on my knees bowing to all,
Convention and responsibility and everything else,
Reduced to common slavery,
Chained to my cubicle in a post-modern world,
Just another faceless pawn in an endless game.
Greatness drives some men mad,
But a life of compromises and faded dreams does the same,
Realizing one’s own mediocrity no joy,
Faced with nothing but limitations on all sides,
Fear the same for the offspring as well,
But maybe they’ll break from their bonds,
Watch silently as their chances are whittled away,
The wanting is the most dangerous part.
In this place and time of so much,
Perhaps there are simply too many of us,
So little chance for most to ever break free,
Happy accidents propel some to the top,
While the rest live off the crumbs and dreams,
What is the true worth of any one person,
A name a family their possessions,
Or the ability to swallow their pride and grovel?
There is no more glory to be had in this life,
Everything reduced to a commodity,
We are valued only as consumers,
Of goods and services we do not need,
Ye kings and conquerors of old,
What would you do in such a world,
Captains of technology and/or billionaires,
Or grunts laboring away at some big-box store?
To have or to be is the biggest question,
What does either really matter in the end,
Withered slimy bags wasting away in coffins,
Entombed in concrete vaults for a thousand years,
Just scatter my ashes to the four winds,
King of the air and nothing more,
Favored for once with a human birth,
But wasted all the chances I ever had.