There was once a man born with powerful ambition. His parents who had lacked much in their own lives, encouraged him and, discovering in himself a great liking for wealth and power, he acquired the skills he needed to achieve his ends. 
There is no great shame in this - depending on just how you go about things.

Our friend in his haste used all who would help him,  but he took all of the credit for his success for himself. His friends deserted him until there were none but sycophants around him, agreeing with all he said. With no- one to discuss his successes with the man became a recluse very quickly. In his mind  he decided that people envied him and so were not worthy of his time. 

He treated those who worked for him and were dependent on him,  very badly and one day, having schemed and plotted for many years, one of his ill treated servants put poison into his food. 

So our hero died in agony but his worst agony was seeing from his ephemeral world, how  all of his wealth and possessions were fought over till nothing remained - even of his castle. 
All was dissipated in a far shorter time than he had worked to build it up. His funeral had been a miserable affair for no one even saw to pay for it from their ill- gotten gains, and his rough coffin was interred in paupers' ground at some crossroads. 

It would remain to be seen if this man would realise his own part in his fate - or whether he would blame those who turned from him and the one who killed him and those who plundered his estate.