This is a repeat post that i enjoyed writing.
He was my king.
He treated the subjects well,
His granaries were full,
Art, Music and economy flourished in his kingdom,
And women and children felt safe.
Crooks were punished and thieves were jailed.
Justice was fair and we worried little,
We felt safe.
Our enemies were jealous and they wanted our fertile land and our full granaries.
They tried to loot our land and waged a battle.
Our king went out with his army and protected his people and his land.
We felt loved.
We lived peacefully.
the prince left the land.
He abandoned his wife,his child and the people.
He fled into the night.
He roamed the land and the forest.
He searched for the way and the light .
Time spent him, and his mind, body and spirit searched.
He came back enlightened.
He came back to all the people.
Understanding made him Buddha.
Compassion was his food,
And wisdom his armor.
sickness, suffering and disappointments lay beneath him.
Enveloped by peace, His eyes gave him vision.
His mind did not have doubts.
Victorious was his middle name
And death did not know him.
He lives in everybody who seek him.
But does not want to be their Idol.
Do not worship me, He said.
Don't light a lamp and bring me flowers.
For I am not King, but Buddha.