By Dr. Bilal Ahmad Bhat for KASHmirie
The King of Kings has touched the ground,
A regal moment, so profound.
Purple waves and purple skies,
A signal, bold, to all who rise.
Purple tie, purple flair,
Every step a charge in air.
The stairs descend, the carpet lies—
This isn’t staged, it’s a power’s prize.
For those who watch, who understand,
This isn’t just a visit planned.
This is a signal, crisp and clear,
A commander’s rise, to make them fear.
The Saudis bow, the welcome grand,
A royal touch in desert sand.
But purple’s not just royal hue—
It’s authority—pure, true, and due.
Dominion. Control. Power.
A force that towers, hour by hour.
The world watches, holds its breath,
As kingdoms quiver beneath its depth.
Trump’s not walking—he descends,
Like a king returning, fate to mend.
Not a guest, but ruler crowned,
This is a move that shakes the ground.
This isn’t simple; this is deep,
A reset wide—no time for sleep.
Realignment carved in stone,
Sovereignty in actions shown.
Every handshake holds a key,
Every motion, certainty.
A frame, a glance, an open door,
To futures shaped by those who soar.
The [Old Guard] trembles, watches fall,
The time of reign, they’ve had it all.
New alliances rise and build,
As power’s balance is refilled.
The world must shift, the truth be told,
The age of change has just unrolled.
And as he lands, with purple bright,
The King of Kings has claimed his right,
IN SAUDI ARABIA.
