• The Sorrow Of The King


    The king sits on his throne,
    In the great hall of a big empty home
    He knows not the sounds of children’s laughter
    As they play in a golden field under magnificent clouds of pale grey that
    Shine more beautifully than his pure golden crown
    But the worst part of it all is he knows that all the wonders of the world pass him by as he sits in his cold golden throne, giving commands, and ruling over the land he calls his own.

    The weight of his pure gold crown is like prisoners chains
    As he sits in his throne like a beacon of light
    Giving his people something to believe in, someone who they trust enough to put there lives in.

    As the king sleeps in his bed of the finest wood, he dreams of going and walking
    In the fields of purest gold wheat, or feeling the morning mists of his aging face.

    His rule is a bittersweet victory
    This is what he thought he wanted to be
    Sitting in the golden throne
    Giving commands in his magnificent robes
    Like his father before him
    But like all kingdoms he knows
    His is going to soon end

    When the sounds of soldiers fill the air and the smell of death brings him despair
    All kingdoms must fall, he knows. And with every soldier that falls he feels their pain

    But he knows if he surrenders, he will insult the souls of the soldiers the lie slain in the fields of blood stained grain, so he draws his sword
    With a heavy heart from its sheath
    And throws his crow with a heartbreaking sound on the great stone halls ground
    Freedom filling his heart he makes his final stand.
    His heart is heavy and stained by the deaths of his country
    And with a roar like a lion
    He charges at the soldiers coming through the door
    As arrows fly thought the air, he remembers the days when he was once free
    And happiness filled the air

    And with a tear in his noble eyes he dies,
    Finally free to roam the golden fields
    And hear the children’s laughter

    O great king you are finally free from the throne that was your world

    Be free O tragic king

    Be Free