Legend Of The Five Lords Poem by John Lowe

Kings within their palace walls,
Bright the golden horde they wrought,
By their iron hands the nations fell,
Terror and fear swept before,
Children cried and men wailed,
Beneath the tramp of the five lords,
Yet for all their wealth and power great,
The dead lay silent in ruinous despair,
All the lands have been reborn,
The great names lay forgotten as dust on floor,
No longer kingly commanders but prisoners they,
Lying in cavernous dungeon deep,
Every coin gained in contempt of life,
Now a dragon's private mound,
Still in coffins of gold are they,
Set aside a granite wall,
Forever to witness till end of time,
Their lives' work in another's hands,
So is the legend of the five lords,
Men who left a lesson behind them,
All men are destined to die,
But how shall we not be forgotten?
To know there is more than possession,
And remember that we are not alone,
For the man who dies without a friend,
Is a man who was dead and never lived