Wait, I lived!
The pages you see me through are but a shadow of my true majesty. Long ago, life coursed through my veins. Before my monuments grew around me and tumbled to form my tomb.
I had a zenith, an apex, a time in my heart of hearts when I knew it was okay, that it would always be okay.
My soldiers fought and won, my wise men reached toward the heavens, and my people loved.
But I grew old. Immortality bore a price I could no longer pay. Our people, once so united, had lost their way. I grew cold and dark, full of fear and sorrow. When they came I was ready.
They marched up the steps, into my citadel, and buried me in my tomb.
Now I beg you to learn from my wisdom. That my life and all it contained should find some small niche in your exceptionally young mind.
That you march up the steps, upon my tomb, and there build your citadel.