The pretender

 The chair was once filled
by some power unheard of
unspeakable today
echoes of him in the chamber

presence of him along the walls
Shadows that wouldn't obey when he lived
now distort the floor after midnight
The rattle of the doors

That crown still in the glass case
waiting for some far off pretender
nostalgic and naiive
Decides to bathe himself

In a seasoned sycophant soup
That spurned courage of initial conflict
That spun the web of all elaborate traps
plans that included the final step of inhumation

False morals to the end of him
well crafted stories that flew from truth
As the demonized are stained
matyrs and myths will reign