Awoken from his sleep way up in a castle high by a pervasive Stench of evil that clung to the room
The king
Half asleep
Stumbled down the stairwell and flung open the door to a world where life no longer bloomed
Infection is in the air
Famine is on the breeze!
The intricately patterned bark hath been scathed from upon the trees!
A king among corpses!
His eyes cry blackened tears!
The king looks up in horror
His golden orchards lay withered and dead!
Scanning the burning horizon
His rotting hands cradle his hanging head
Gazing across his kingdom
His fate has been drawn
With a million questions and regret
He faces the impending dawn