The Emperor Chin was ruthless.
The Emperor Chin trekked through the
wilds of the countryside seeking
the elixir of eternal life and youth,
yet abetted his own premature demise
at forty-nine by imbibing magic
potions of arsenic, lead and sulfur.
The Emperor Chin burned books.
The Emperor Chin gave contrary scholars
the option to help build his Great Wall
or to be buried alive. Some choice.
The Emperor Chin had a pigeon chest.
When confronted by one of his astrologers
and told that he must blood sacrifice 10,000 men
or his Great Wall was doomed to be incomplete
forever, The Emperor Chin, knowing he could
never spare 10,000 men for empty sacrifice,
sought out one man whose name
contained the Chinese character representing 10,000
and entombed him in The Wall. Poor unlucky bastard.
The Emperor Chin was a creative problem solver.
Mr. 10,000’s ghost still wanders The Wall,
ringing a small bronze bell, cursing his parents
and chanting the character that doomed him.
The Emperor Chin sleeps in a fabulous tomb.