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his head pounded loudly. they crushed his bones and broke his nose. they didn't let him gasp for air. One punch weighed over another. his vision flashed scarlet. And pain washed over him like a gluttonous flood.
he could feel his kingdom crumble. he could feel each and every quake that passed through it. he could point out each and every crevices and cracks that they ruthlessly created.
his kingdom, where angels and goblins coexisted. his kingdom, where he had a seamstress with tight curls and bright eyes. his kingdom, where his sceptre had been made of barbed thorns and white carnations. his kingdom, where those stars that lost their luminosity aeons back, had a home to return to.
his beautiful kingdom had been bombed. A nuclear chain reaction of disastrous emotions. Each bombarded his heart with missiles of pain. They created craters and hollows, yielding it unproductive.
he didn't plead. he didn't beg for their mercy. he cried out in pain but never asked them to stop. he pursed his lips and cursed himself. For being frail. For being unworthy. For letting his kingdom fall.
they kicked on him repeatedly with their mud encrusted football sneakers. they broke his ribs. they tore his ligaments like carnivorous beasts.
Salty tears diluted his blood. They hit him continuously opening up new wounds on his body and old ones in his heart. he watched them hurt him taking up all the pain.
he watched silently as his father bet up his mother. he did nothing to relieve her pain. But only cause her more of it.
