One could see the sovereign in splendor;
Glory - gave the people a story; Song
A rift formed - sweeping cyclone of fervor;
Banners burned - the people had become strong.
Pillars collapsed; He stood amongst rubble
undaunted - he remained stoic beneath.
The vindictive mob smashed his crown -- cudgel.
Despite screams - a child bestowed his wreath.
The child was beaten with his master.
His action had no cry of contrition,
sovereign that retained ever after.
Last grace - Hoping his words gained fruition.
"Gnothi se auton" - Know thyself; see
how he unites the pieces, set him free...