He sits high upon his thrown, crown crooked.
Brilliance unmatched. Style unparalleled. Reign non-ending.
Army spread about perimeter; protect the King. Protect for all he stands.
God, Save the King.
High his thrown sits just beyond the two way window wall.
Over looking his kingdom bathed in gray.
And cloud's cover blind his view. Makes his truth, true.
God, Save the King.
And once upon a sun's day, comes that of brighter brilliance. A militia in his force.
All the King's men is driven far from. All his reign weaken.
His highness must watch as his kingdom fall.
As hard he tries, it falls.
And falls.
And falls.
God, Save the King.
From the light.
From himself.
From the truth.
God, Save the King.
Apparently during editing or transfer the layout was changed and added the line of coding without showing it to me but the reader. My apologies. If it's still a problem, do inform me, that wasn't my intent. Again, sorry, enjoy.