Useless

There was once a king...
Ppl called him useless
He used to collect
Old bottles
Thrown away pencil tips
Even old leaves shed
In autumn
He never used to be
Alone
He would always be surrounded
By a gigantic crowd
Who would cheer and cry
Applaud and shout
Each time he picks up
A leaf
Or
Pencil tip...
His sword was sharp
Made of thin metal
That he hides everytime
Not to scare his countrymen
Unless otherwise
There would be a need
A dire need
He found some new lands
...
He has even sailed across
Rivers and Oceans
Yesterday night he arrived at this new town
On the coast of Arabian sea
With bubbling spirit
And victorious smile
He is a king of a new land
He gifted some rare bottles
To his commanders
And pencil tips to his court poet
Who kept the spirits of war
High for em to win
One day
Like anyother day for anyone else
The mighty king died
People in the city
Moved with pity
He was garbage for the corporation to clean up
But was that all???
Months after he left
Even today
One can see his commander's
Prize
On the temple top
Or pencil tip on a table top
A girl writes her name
They say he is not dead yet
One of his kidneys still live
Pumping urea
out of a statesman
The useless king
Is no more
His body
A garbage difficult to remove
With a hole in the abdomen
Smelt like a thousand dead rats
A dog licked his face
Once he had fed
His bottles are still found
Hanging somewhere
On a cathedral
Or a mosque
Or a railway station
As if inscriptions
On stones of an emperor no more....
Useless...