Hopeful

I call to the mountains. I call to the forests. Lake shores. Anywhere that will heed my call. For the king is dying. I am dying. Again. I have been struck by the teeth and claws of my enemy. Once more the world will plunge into darkness and I shall be powerless to stop it. Once more will I have to bide by myself and wait until I grow strong again. Strong enough to overthrow the other who has stolen my throne, as he has done many times for nearly 300 years. Again, the pain and finality of dying never gets lesser. I find myself wondering if this my final death call, if this really is the end.
As the last of the light leaves my eyes I find myself hoping that this time I really will die. Be free of the burden I have carried for hundreds of years. The light isn't an easy thing to uphold. Not when the darkness seeks to take it from me at every possible moment.



omg his skin looks like an old couch