| for not being able to rec u in.....
hmms..
fan nao. |
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| He looked outside, the smell of burning and firewood cackling, hounds and all in human guise, baying for his blood.
"What are they doing? Why are they doing this?" he asked.
" They want you out sire" came the reply from a guard beside the king.
A long silence came, allowing the sounds from the angry mob to permeate into every nook and cranny of the royal room. Confused, the king walked into his room. Why were they doing that?
He looked onto his bed, creased and crumpled on one side, smoothly pulled on the other. The bed has had an easy load for eight years now, carrying only his sole lonely weight on every night. 'Till death do us part' was the catchphrase that seemed to resonate and taunt his ears every time he thought of his queen. Ex-queen. Ex-queen who had disgraced the entire kingdom by taking his princes and princess away from the castle to let them live a normal life.
Outraged, he had sent soldiers after them, hunting them as if they were convicts on a loose. Hunting his own flesh and blood. When reports came in of them having fell over a cliff in a pursuit, the parts in him that could feel pain seemed to have numbed over. It was as if he could no longer feel any emotions, any pain. Just the task of being a king.
And king he had been, having days that stretched into the nights, long hours of self-imposed responsibility and morality. A king should lead his kingdom by example, he was told, and one was thrust into great responsibility with the power the kingship gave. How could a king afford to show weakness to his subjects?
But now, his kingdom lost, the pain that was locked deep down within came gushing out in torrents. He looked at the family he never had, lost to his task of being the king. And in a small corner of the room, a portrait that somehow or rather, survived the subsequent 'cleanup' by his advisers to clear the castle of the presence of his queen. And he thought of his queen, the early days when life seemed to be just a matter of piecing jigsaw puzzles into place. Age gave wisdom, and he knew now that life was the ultimate prankster, giving you different pieces from different sets of jigsaws to put into place.
His life, torn and meaningless. And all for what? Those hounds below, who were supposed to have been the beneficaries of his sacrifices?
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| i want to also say
fuck it lets just be pissed and angry today....
fuck the world and all around
but then
if i said that
whats going to happen tomorrow?
but maybe its all these considerations for tomorrow, thats going to leave me with nary a today
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