There were promises the king broke,
while bodies reeled from sabre stroke.
While he was supposed to be God for all,
lived on his ego and journeyed to his fall.
He who promised all equally - the grains,
snatched it all after halting of rains.
No one uttered a hue or a cry,
the shiny sword deterred not to try.
Women, children tormented all alike,
hung from fort walls on a spike.
He who thought, 'Everything is mine',
got intoxicated in blood and wine.
Down came his fall like winter snow,
outcome of tyranny as the world may know.
Vengeance overflowed, so did the cries,
in history this is how rebellions rise.
Prasenjit©1997-2022
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