Once again. The king of hearts has fallen into his perpetual curse of loneliness. His curse of fruitless endeavors in his pursuit of happiness. His golden heart made thin once more. If he could weep in the rain, the rain would incessantly pour as it tries to out weep the king. But there is no torrent streaming from his eyes. At least, not during this passing of a storm.

After reading the scroll given unto him by the whisper, his heart wept. His soul died. He was defeated. A man whose own people thought so highly of, brought down to his knees with a single scroll covered in ink. A scroll that so crudely written with a ravens feather, informed him further of what he had lost. For it was only a whisper but he can still remember the tone, and the passion held within it. He wanted to run. Every echo only brought misery and despair. He wanted to feel someone embrace him. He needed someone. But as a king, he felt weak for having issues that not even he could contorl. For admitting such a feat would belittle him as a ruler and he surely thought his people would surely dethrone him and have him exiled for being weak. Truth be told. He was already executed by his kingdom. The sentence came from his heart, and his mind brought the cold iron over his shoulders. And he way he's helplessly as he rolled down the steps of his once mighty castle.