• Dressed up in arms, but yet ingulfed in flames. Silently I watch my skin melt away as I look upon what I remain. A pile of charred bones in armor, ashamed by my looks and silent. No tounge to speak to those who once praised me. I am no longer King walking around this empty land.

    Holy water helps with the pain, but no healing. My cape cloths my bones, protection from the transfer of them to the metal that is colder… Guarding the Children that no mothers are owning- standing still in the arms, guarding the sons and daughters left at the distance of the towns lands. Away from that of the healthy and strong. But yet they live long and old under my watch

    When I am no longer needed by them, I walk on and then I watch the children again… I am the Guarder of the Children in this land, the King lost at war, the man who left his home.