Sitting in this empty room, alone with my thoughts. I thought I'd be lonely, I thought I'd be scared. Yet all I find is calming peace. Surrounded by the words of men who no longer live. Surrounded by the thoughts of those that came before. Although this room is laced with treasures they mean nothing for they are part of a fallen kingdom, forgotten by time itself. I do not know the purpose of my life. I have nothing to share, nothing to show. So what do I live for? What keeps me in this world? My crown means nothing, my specter holds no power. Sitting in my throne of nothingness for I am a king of the past. No longer do I rule over this kingdom, I am nothing more then a memory. What shall I do? Looking over this kingdom that holds no life. I remember when the nights were brighter then that of the day, I remember when the festivals were bigger then the kingdom itself. I remember when my name would be cheered through the streets, when cheers could be heard throughout the city. The joy that once filled the air, now sits still. Everything is still and dead. All those who wonder become part of the city, forever stuck in this deaden land. This is the land I rule over, this is my home. Forever bound by my guilt. So all those who wonder, die and die until you're strong enough then come to me. End what little I have left, and take over this forgotten kingdom. Become the lord of nothing, for I no longer can bear this burden.
YOU ARE READING
Little blobs of literally nothing, except for part 13
Short StoryJust some short stories that may or may not be bad, as well as things that pop up in my head.
