Prologue

The Prologue

                             A Tasteless Corruption
Prologue.
   
  

 

    King.  The word itself resembles a greater power.  An unprecedented status in royalty above all else.  The man, with the fortune of his own claim to be a King, should be able to hold his head high in dignity.  No matter how short, to look above all others.  Back straight, shoulders squared, and a face, if which written not even the author could comprehend its magnificence on the dawn of creation.  The man, who occupies this throne.  Embroidered in brilliant gold streaks that run the crest of the helm.  The red velvet seating to provide an utmost comfort, supposedly beyond that of any source within the kingdom.  An unparalleled architecture that has consumed many men’s time like a singularity that will never be fed until a masterpiece is created. 
    Yes, the man that occupies that throne, whom is esteemed in honor to hold the most powerful title any entity could ever reach, has deteriorated to such a pathetic point, beyond what any previous of this title would dare to reach.  Thinning gray hairs cascade a bony face, down to the sharp jowls of underfed features.  Deep in the grave of this pathetic man’s eye socket’s beam those ageless blue eyes.  From birth to death they shall remain as is.  Yet these artifacts of beauty are not enough to grant this seemingly incompetent excuse any reason to remain in the throne.  If the divine tradition of death being the only way a King can lose throne, was non-existent, then surely this man would have been cast to the gallows long ago.  Such a cold ruthless outlook for royalty, but it must be sustained.  Power needs a seed, and this seed needs a foundation.  Without the latter, nothing would hold the weight of a kingdom upon shoulders.  Without the former, there would be no reason for two shoulders, and a burden to weigh them down. 
    Next to God, nothing would ever rise above their royal status.  A power is granted to their fingertips, which barely scathes the boundaries of the Holy Kingdom far, far above.  A single word, can start a war.  A bare motion, can destroy an empire!  And just the right touch of a dire gaze, can completely singe the ever-turning pages of a human life.
    What kind of man is this?  His chin drops below his shoulders.  His neck cranes, barely able to hold the weight of its crown any longer.  This disgusting mess only speaks for his own self sufficiency!  A goblet of wine, the finest bread within the land, and a mistress to defile ever since the passing of an old Queen.  This man no longer addresses the empire, and we are stuck in a stalemate simply awaiting this clock to tick once more, so his grave may be filled, and a new king shall rise to the occasion. 
    My father is no longer justified to hold the throne.  I have taken account to it many a’ time, but simply to no use.  Not even a Prince, one who in the near future will hoist the reins of this empire tight in grasp, can defy the tradition so many centuries ago embedded.  When he dies, I will hold the throne.  I swear it to hell, I will.  This kingdom, this empire will be mine.  Alas when the fire of life burns out, and the ashy pit of death takes him in, I will finally, in a most prestigious manner, rule everything.  The impatience gnaws at me like a maiden in distress.  Soon, he will die.  And as the divine law remains so precise, it will be mine.
 

Author's Note

Tell me what you think.

Reviews

[FX777222999]

Chad, I liked your style, construction of words into sentences and you're very vivid in describing the personality of a King...the Power..You have talent, buddy! Keep it up! Write on!

[Jordyn K. Jansa]

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Amazing! This is so descriptive and I can tell that this will be absolutely amazing when finished! This could sell as an amazing novel(I know I've used 'amazing' too much) and would rank at the top of the charts! Keep up the good work!