Just a little poem, hope it's at least decent...

//

The Glass King

Upon your throne you sit and rule,
And yet you pay no mind to lowly mules.
Who ponder in awe at you flawless grace,
To see you gone there is no race.
Your kingdom bright and tall,
With none who dare to break your walls.

With pride and greed your power grew,
Mountains of gold and shrines made to you.
On this fragile throne you sit,
Trusting none but your own wit.
When word of plague and shouts of war came to your gate,
You quickly turned to bribe before it would be too late.

As you sit and think that you are safe,
A single crack of doubt which you cannot strafe.
With crash and scream your castle crumbles,
Yet no sooner does the dust settle and the ground not rumble.
With weeping eyes you gaze on at all you had,
Your rivals all eager and all too glad.

So here you lay on shattered glass,
Awaiting for a better time to pass.