He thought King

The heat was beating on his back.

He thought himself King, not a jack.

He is strong, but courage he lacks.

hopeful for he won't leave within a sack.

The climb was strenuous, really really hard.

Danger crept, forever on guard.

He were not the sword from the card,

but rather farmed pig turned to lard.

He pushed on, harder than ever,

wishing more that he were a little bit better.

Only to realize that he needs to go get her,

for its too late to take back the tear-dried letter.

All was lost in the turbulent gale,

over a lake much larger than a whale.

His skin loses color, turning pale,

forever gone, he is only but a tale.

Author's Note

the kind of feedback i'm looking for is awkward lines, or lines you really enjoyed.