The desert sands burned with the sun. Footprints melted into gold. Day spun and then died. Night came, but the ghost refused to fade. Instead, he turned and looked at a forgotten world, a world that he once reigned.
The moonlight kissed his bald skin. His eyes held to the darkness, knowing the shadows were his. Every movement was a faint whisper. He should’ve died. Instead, he was here, and he wanted to go home, a stone against his heart.
The craziness was past him. Nobody wanted his head on a stake. They thought he had died. They buried him, or so they thought. Maybe, someone took pity on him, or when no one was really looking, he just got up and walked away. But he didn’t die there in the lab. He wanted to, but that was not his fate. His fate was here, to walk alone, and to remember all that he had done.
At least, he did one thing right. Maybe, something else, but who would believe him? And to let the world know that he was still real would be to unleash all that he had struggled to leave behind. No, they had to think him dead, believe it was over, and it was over. Now, he was just a ghost of a man that drifted across the sands of time with a kingdom destroyed and no love left behind.
