False Pride for Winning The Race

There he stood victorious,
A grin lit his triumphant face;
A statue of him constructed beside,
False pride for winning the race.

He won both ways- reputation and love;
Too much for him to accept.
But slow and steady, grew used to it all,
To false pride for winning the race.

Villages he had vanquished, looted them clean
Without looking back even once.
When he did look back, he had to move on,
With false pride for winning the race.

The good ones comes, the good ones go,
No one ever bothers holding on.
He knew what he could win with his might,
But his ability to think was long gone.