THE LAST GREAT KING I remember the king of old sitting upon his golden throne, a golden crown upon his weary head. He told me the stories of old fighting the evil foes that are now long since dead. He recalled a mighty fight where many men lost their lives in a war that's long since past. I then seen him grip is sword trying to hold on tight with all the strength he had all the kings might. And as the strength left his weary hand the sword did fall upon the land with a thunderous noise I won't soon forget. He then bowed his head as tears did flow from the shame of becoming so weak becoming so old. He let out a sigh looked straight at me with those cold grey eyes. With a look of defeat upon his face I try to comfort our grace but I knew it didn't help for it was to late. With all he had left He drew his last breath then was gone it's a sad day for us all. Now word did spread across the land the song of sorrow the people sang as the bells did toll. So remember the might remember the fight remember the last great king of old.