Empire of Dirt Print

I started this piece with a narrative in mind: A lonely monarch in the ruins of a once-great castle, where the world had moved on, leaving him alone in his forsaken fortress. Forgotten by his subjects and abandoned by hope, he mourned the shattered remnants of his reign. The walls whispered tales of forgotten glory, mocking his downfall. The empty halls became a labyrinth of memories, trapping him in a prison of his own regret. He became a ghost of royalty, haunted by his past. His once vibrant spirit withered, consumed by sorrow. All who passed by the ramshackle remains oblivious to the shattered king dwelling in his decaying domain. And there he sat, hoping that oblivion would offer respite from the eternal solitude that had become his only companion. Not the happiest tale, but I'm happy with the result of it..!