Ashoka

His eyes skimmed past the bruised bodies

Each one bloodier than the last,

He couldn't tell the number of battles he'd won,

But this one hadn't been so fast.

His heart was known for its unwavering might;

And his sword for conquering lands

But this time he couldn't feel victory in his bones

Instead felt a tremble in his hands.

A surge of sympathy and compassion took him in its arms,

Releasing his heart from the years of pain and hate.

His heart broke into pieces and wove itself back-

And history saw the rise of a new king, Ashoka the Great.