This is the way the world ends,
This is the way the world ends...


Once upon a time, a young King came to be. Of this young King, many things were expected, there was no chance that he would fault, nor would he ever have problems, ever sin, ever fall. Such was the insight of his elders, his friends, himself.​

This King loved by many, and despised by none, the epitome of sordid happiness- unrelenting, unflinching and unwavering. His plans were monumentous, his outlook grand, his insight unique. Expectations ran high, and second plans were thought blasphemous, there would be no need, why would there be any?​

Why?​

His Kingdom fit well into his aura; it was well kempt, without supposed flaw, prosperous, full of life, energy and wonder. The Forests vibrant, colorful and beautiful,full of life and wonder, the Seas and Oceans vibrantfull of life and wonder, colorful and beautiful, the Mountains elegant, unwaivering and monumentous, his citizen folk, happy, lively, and carefree, his cities and towns, glittering, perfect. His Kingdom was what all others desired, the most disgustingly perfect kingdom that had ever come to be; without flaw, fault or failure it grew; grew, grew, grew exortitantly. The King's advisors and friends all were awed by this, and that wonderful little King, O, they thought they had seen the future, and it was good! They chatted with the King unrequitedly, praising him with his own paltry accomplishments, and those he had not even begun to engage in. Praised him like a god, without restraint or reason. They planned for him, without his consent. They knew best, after all. Why alert the King? Those close to the King had his entire life mapped out before him, he was not yet a man, yet his life was there's for the taking. Ripe with promise, they seized the young Kings life, and did there best to make him into what was best, best for all, and best for him. The King just smiled.​

The Kingdom's exorbitant growth did not go unnoticed, and he was often beraited with other Kings, of other Kingdoms, of other lives, with promises of friendship, promises of a future, promises of happiness. Platitudes. It seemed that even those he did not know had more plans for him than he had for himself.​

--Vicarious, vicarious, vicarious.
-Again, only smiles.​

However, not all was well with the (little) Kingdom. It came to pass that a dark cloud happened upon this Kingdom. Many of the Kings closest saw this as simply nothing, an excuse for this little King to avoid his presribed destiny, a ploy for vicissitudes, a plan for err. This could not be, and despite the Kings protests, nothing was done. Though, save it were for a few indicators, the King said, did, acted on very little, as much at fault as any. The clouds bore down on the little King.​

Eventually, these clouds, and their silver lining rained down on the kingdom destruction in many forms, many within the King himself. However, after a manner, he could not deviate himself from his path, and did not dare disapoint those to whom he was close, dared not, dared not.​

Something broke​

Lo, as the tiny citizens' eyes fell upon their King, after all that had tranpsired, they saw his resolution, his unwaivering constitution, and his sordid smile. He had not faltered, upon his throne he sat, upon his throne he did not falter, upon his throne, he was all. They came in multitudes to congratulate the on a job well done. However, even after the bleating procession had ceased, after the citizens, the friends, the advisors had ceased, the King only smiled. Stuck, plastered on his face was that grotesquely happy smile, without deviation. The King sat, rigid, and happy. Happy and rigid. Rigidly happy.​

Even as they left, a small few looked back, and even then, the King had not changed, his positive outlook, overbearing, omnipresent and incessant remained, looking forward, and nowhere else. All he could do was grin and bear it.​

This is the way the world ends...

The Kings fortitude, however, did not filter to his Kingdom. Soon, the Kingdom was in need of direction, yet the King only smiled. The citizens were hungry, the forests were sick, the waters polluted, the cities dirty; he smiled. He processions cried for his help, his leadership, but they fell on deaf ears. Fell upon the smile, the rigid happiness.​

Fell on deaf ears the final moans and shrieks of the forest as it collapsed; the final sigh as the oceans, lakes and streams disappeared into the sky for the last time; the ending grumble as the mountains became the earth once again; the final breath as the citizens left to whence the came. -- And thus was the Kingdom.​

And thus it ended. In the end, after all that had transpired, still sat the King, still grinning, still rigid, still happy. King upon his withering throne, a King of Loss. His Kingdom nothing more than a sadistic farce- The oceans of life, and adventurous nature were dry, and laiden with dead dreams; the cities of golden opportunity, rubble; the forests of creativity and beauty, ash; the glorious and wonderous mountains, dirt; the citizens of his own self, systematic mounds of dirt in an unmoving landscape.​

This is the way the world ends...
Not with a bang, but a-

As it happened, a passerby came across this Little King, and began to study him. At first, all he noticed was the grin, as he came closer, he noticed a small note, clenched in one, happy fist. It read:​

"Plans they had for me
Plans destined to go awry
Plans dull and paltry

I knew not my err 'til it was forgone
My life as it were, a seeming timeline
Of which I myself had not written on

Life, as far I could tell
Was nothing more than a wait
Until I ultimately fell

And so I write, damned and amused
Never had I guessed, surmised or hypothosized
That I, a friend, would be used

However, as far as these things tend to go
And,of course, little did they know
Their sordid little King had died some time ago"

This is the way the world ends,
This is the way the world ends!

Not with a bang but a-
Not with a bang but a-

NOT

With a bang, but a whimper.