The fallen crown.

The innocence of things will lay there, unprotected, vulnerable, yet, proud. The depths of things bounce thousands of echoes that emerge from many unknown places. Yet, one place crowns it all. Shadows dance with the flickering tip of the candle-fire, uncovering secrets from a room occupied by memories, hopes, and dreams. The heart suddenly enters and everything shakes, the eyes greet what is left out there to be seen.

So little, yet, there is so much there. The pool of admiration fills in every second with one more drop with such a steady pace. The eyes pull, and the smile feeds my soul and keeps it eager to sit and redraw each line of that face to remember. The details, the tone, the burning sensation to just remain.
The crown rusted, while the old king fell off the edge. The waves embraced the cliff and the sky howled under a thousand men taking their pledge. The oath was sealed with resonating drums. With the presence of shadows in the quarters, whispering, their crooked voices can be heard through their thousand hums.