A lion must sleep

He was a lion in battle
His men will remember him
For as long as they live
The world will remember
Until the words fall off pages
After the wars of empire
He is still alive
Alive to give orders
But his flesh is so very tired
So very weak from his efforts
Burning fever inside
His main regret is to have died
Before conquering the world
His vision was far larger
Than maps of his day could illustrate
His sorrow for his lost friends
Greater
Than his words would say
And that his soul might paint