Lion King

This was written in 2005 at the age of fifteen


I gazed down at my paws and the black claws that had grown during my escape. I was a young prince exiled from a throne I had destroyed. Did my companions know I had murdered the head of a dynasty, or that every moment I tried to temper my shame, my past. Come nighttime I couldn’t look up at the stars, I knew the great kings were looking down on me. I was hiding, hiding with the lowest of beings. We ate insects and grass and slept in the squalor of the open air, a life of squalor. I never asked what they were fleeing from and they never asked me why their company was my asylum. They became my friends for the protection I provided and I became their guardian for the company they offered. I was escaping into a relationship of nothing, encroaching squalor.
I had killed my father. I had been the reason… had shoved him, he fell, from grace. He had been my sun and I his son. His glory were fixtures of my previous life. I wanted to be him, fixed in my previous life. I wanted to yell like him, to hit like him, to insight fear like him, to love back like him. Before he was murdered,by the scum of this kingdom, I had grown by his side entangled in the golden light of family. I stud upon pride and relished in my high birth. I laughed in the face of danger. Long ago? My ignorance took it away from me and my shame took me away from home. I left everything behind, I was dead to them and I was dead to me. I couldn’t be found. In exile I joined a pair of traveling minstrels and together with the temptations of paradise they promised and songs they sang I became convinced I had put my past behind me… I have done so…. I have… It is behind me! My father is behind me, my uncle is behind me. My shadow …..  waits behind me and it yarns for me to turn around.

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