A king with all of the wealth in the world
All of the power and might
But with empty seats at his meeting table
No servants grooming his silk horses at the stables
All chefs have left the kitchens and butchery
Imperial carpets are void of eyes in awe
Jewels lay incased with keys in their locks
No threat of skinny pickpocket in fingers
Nor mastermind thieves loitering by the tall pillars
The king pleads.. Oh assassin, just pick me!
And his voice echoes back, in the same high note of desperation, growing ever faint into the wallowing air.
He has the prestige and gems, but an empty heir.
The assassin is not interested in the arrogant ruler of fools gold.