In 323 BC, at just 32 years old, Alexander the Great lay dying in Babylon
— the man who had conquered empires, reshaped the world, and stood at
the pinnacle of power. But in those final hours, his mind turned not to
victory, but to meaning.
He called his generals and gave three final commands:
“Let my physicians carry my coffin,” he said, “to show that even the
greatest healers cannot stop death.”
“Scatter gold, silver, and jewels along the path to my grave,” he
continued, “to show that the riches of this world mean nothing in the
end.”
“Let my hands hang outside my coffin, so that all may see — I leave
this world empty-handed.”
Whether this tale is myth or memory, its message endures: all conquests
fade, and even kings must bow to time.
Alexander’s last wishes weren’t orders of a ruler — they were lessons from
a man who finally understood that immortality isn’t found in gold, but in
the stories we leave behind.