The old man sits at the table, far from the land he used to rule. Where once a King he is now outcast, an outlaw in the land of his grandfathers, betrayed by his own kin.

On the table in front of him are there are three things, Whiskey made by his own hands, a bottle of pills the doctors said would "make it all better" and his last possession, a Colt 45.

His body is wreaked with pain form wounds suffered fighting other peoples wars, the same people who named him outlaw. His dreams at night are haunted by the faces of those he has killed in the service of those others. His days are haunted by the happiness of those that betrayed him. Those who couldnt wait a few more years for their payday, when it would have been all thiers anyway.

He has tried the Whiskey, its dulled the pain for a few moments. He has tried the pills which made nothing better. He has tried BOTH the pills and the whiskey which earned him a trip to the Intensive care unit where they forced him back to a world filled with pain.

Ocassianally he picks up the gun, smelling it, tasting it, feeling its weight and wondering why he hasnt the courage to send himself to the place he has sent so many. It would be so easy, a light tug, a blast he would never see or hear and the pain would stop.

Maybe its the Priests telling him that was the road to hell, although it seems impossible that hell could be worse than what he feels now.

He puts down the gun and puts his hands togather in prayer, for his soul, for the souls of those who betrayed him, for the souls of though he has killed and for God to give him the streanth to make it through one more day.

Then he says another, for the happiness of these strangers who have made him one of their own.

[edit on 2-10-2005 by Amuk]

Good story my friend, and I hope it is just that, a story.

It reminds me of the old saying, "The only thing you can count on in this world is change." And that is very true.

If I could talk to the old king I suppose I would tell him that plotting revenge only allows those that hurt you, to hurt you longer. That the best revenge is living good.

Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, only glory lasts forever. There is no glory in walking away, giving up, letting the others laugh at the lion in winter.

Under my name in the mini profile I have a latin phrase, "Il legitimi non corabundum" which translates to, "Don't let the bastards grind you down."

Yea, If I could, thats what i'd tell the old king in the story.

Love and light,

Wupy

The King in the story would love to hear your words, I will be sure to let him

The King carries many burdens, hence his shoulders are broad and strong.

The King has seen and done many things, hence his wisdom is great.

The King has suffered many injuries, hence his heart knows the pain of others.

The King has touched many lives, hence he is greatly loved.

The King will go on to do many more great things, for there is no other way.

1Peter 5:7 "Putting all your cares on Him, for He careth for you."

Amuk,

Those that love .... forgive

Love yourself
forgive yourself

change your avatar

I haven't been around here very long, but I just finished reading all the posts about "what's up with Amuk?" then reading your story....and now I feel the need to respond...and I don't normally talk about this stuff to anyone...

My husband has tried to kill himself three times in the last three years. I can't begin to tell you the hell life is like for him or for those of us who love him. I know that no matter how much I want to understand, there is no way I ever really can....just like there's no way during his greatest moments of pain can he understand how much he is loved.

Tell the King that he is loved more than he knows by people he might not even realize love him and will miss him greatly if he should choose to pick up that gun one last time.........

The goodly king, recognizing that he means more to his subjects than to himself, struggles on for them.

And there's never a last king, but there's a once and future king! PenDragon.

Originally posted by maidenwolf
I haven't been around here very long, but I just finished reading all the posts about "what's up with Amuk?" then reading your story

A story is just a story, some are fact some are fiction, some dont even scratch the surface of the horror that lays beneth.

I am so sorry to hear about your husband, but as for the King, I hear one of his Knights has given him a bottle of spiced rum and he is doing OK tonight

Originally posted by Amuk
The old man sits at the table, far from the land he used to rule. Where once a King he is now outcast, an outlaw in the land of his grandfathers, betrayed by his own kin.

What advice would the rightful true king give to the outcast?

.

Originally posted by cjf
What advice would the rightful true king give to the outcast?

He asks him every day, He hopes he still hears him

The man in black played a song for the old king today


I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way