Colossal Legs of Stone

Chapter 1

He had conquered lands and peoples, amassed wealth, and fame, and built marvels and wonders. He had seen the splendor of the sun and the moon, the beauty of the stars and the seas, the majesty of the mountains and the forests. He had tasted the finest wines and spices, smelled the sweetest perfumes and flowers, heard the most enchanting music and poetry. He had touched the softest silk and velvet, the hardest steel and stone, the warmest flesh and blood. He had achieved everything a mortal could dream of, and yet he wanted more.

He wanted to leave a mark on the world that would last forever. He wanted to be remembered as the greatest king of all time. And so, he ordered his craftsmen to erect a statue of himself in the desert, a statue unlike any other. A statue that would make even the other gods jealous. Then he ordered them to make another. And another. And another. Now this was the last of the series.

He was Ozymandias. He wanted his statue to speak for him with its heroic pose. He smiled regally, towering over the colossal legs of granite, the work of thousands of laborers. His face was carved with exquisite detail, his eyes wide and alert, his nose straight and proud, his lips firm and resolute. His hair was cropped short and dyed black, adorned with a double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. His chest was broad and muscular, his arms crossed over his chest in a gesture of stability and endurance. His hands held a crook and a flail, symbols of his kingship and justice. His robe draped over his shoulders and waist, revealing his legs clad in armor and sandals. His feet rested on a pedestal inscribed with his name and titles.

To the thousands more who had gathered around for the unveiling, he spoke: "Behold, my final masterpiece! The greatest monument ever erected by man! A testament to my glory and magnificence! Who among you can deny that I am the master of this world?"

He paused for dramatic effect, expecting applause or cheers. He spoke to himself: "Do you hear that? The sound of admiration and reverence! They are speechless before my greatness! They know that nothing can compare to me!"

He read the inscription with a booming voice:

My name is Ozymandias, king of kings.Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!I built a glorious empire with my hands,I conquered lands and peoples with my sword,I raised majestic monuments in my honor.And none can match my wisdom or my power.If any want to know how great I am and where I lie,Let him outdo me in my work. But he will findThat all his efforts are in vain,For I am Ozymandias, and all shall bow before me.

As he stood beside the statue, he felt the contrast between the barren and the fertile. Behind him, the desert stretched endlessly, a vast expanse of sand and rock, devoid of life and color. The sun beat down mercilessly, and the wind whipped up dust and sandstorms. In front of him, the Nile flowed majestically, a ribbon of blue and green, teeming with fish and plants. It was the source of life for the land, irrigating the fields and sustaining the crops. Along its banks, the crowd gathered, a sea of faces and voices, eager to see and hear him. He scanned the multitude with his keen eyes, looking for a suitable target. He raised his arm and pointed at a random person. "You there! Come forth and speak your mind! Tell me what you think of my statue!"

"Me? Your majesty..."

"Yes, you! Don't be shy! I want to hear your honest opinion!"

The person he had chosen was a young man with long hair and a beard. He wore a simple tunic. He hesitated but walked towards the platform under the watchful eyes of the guards. He reached the platform and bowed respectfully.

"Your majesty... I am honored by your invitation... but I must confess... I do not share your enthusiasm for this statue...

"What is your name?"

"I... I am Khayyam, your majesty."

"And what do you do?"

"I... I am a poet, your majesty," the young man stammered.