I am a King without a Kingdom in a world with many masters wrapped in the spoils of jealous heart and my people's callous laughter. Trudging through a battlefield of broken dreams and compromise, indecision, my weapon of choice, serves me well in 'getting by.' The chair, from which I rule on high, demands the virtue of the Gods, and so I keep well hidden my humanity that hems and haws. Still, my name, although unknown, swells with the pride in which it rocks, as my spine curves to the pain of a kingdom existent in thought.