apostle's ptsd

We were warriors who rode across foreign lands,
We were kings of a royal kingdom
We fought, we won - we freed the captives
and now head back to our homes.
But lo! what's this? No welcome, no crowd -
only a jeering squad. Then one cried:
"They do no' recognize us in our changed garb;
they take us all for beggars, or prophets of no regard."
And so cloth in hand, we follow commands
and bend to their floors to scrub.
We were warriors, I said and now say again,
We are kings of a foreign land.