There I was standing on the loggia watching the moon,
Looking at my milk washed kingdom under the stars.
Thinking that these wars and battles would never end soon.
They have affected my core and have left a deep scar.
I was eleven when I initially sat on the throne.
Since then all I have seen is blood and death,
It caused a pain in my heart too great too unknown.
I am now exhausted and desires for some rest.
I opened a glass tube which was placed in my pocket.
It contained the venom that would even kill the immortal.
I closed my eyes and drank it without any wait.
I smiled and greeted my death and now I shall fall...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The crown of the king sits heavy on his head. An interesting portrayal of what goes on in the royal mind. Keep the ink flowing.