Heavy lies the crown that sits atop my head as I look out upon my kingdom. Inside my gilded tower I remain, behind those fearsome double doors that are locked four times and triple-barred. I sit on my throne which has been fashioned from the souls that I have stolen and bound to this edifice of dark steel and jagged glass. I hear the low moan of their captivity as I sit and regard my lands which stretch away north, east, south and west. From this vantage point I see all things and I am seen by all, reminding them of who I am and why I am their better.
I am chosen to lead and rule and they must always exhibit suitable respect and loyalty to me or suffer the same fate of those who know provide my seat. I know there are pretenders out there who would seek, through their perfidious ways to storm my citadel and unseat me. I know their plans. I know their schemes of treason, their seditious whispers come my way, carried to me by my ever loyal crows that flit hither and thither spreading my dark message and feeding me the responses which I greedily feed on by way of much needed sustenance.
I know too well that there are those who would come like a thief in the night and seek with malicious aforethought to slit my throat and leave me bleeding to death, my life leaking from me from their numerous puncture wounds and thus I must maintain my defences and seek out these disloyal foes. I know their game and I have them in my eye. They cannot reach me here though.
My dedicated Lieutenants guard the route to this citadel and they will reject all those who approach me with false intentions. I know they will not swerve from protecting their master for I fashioned them in my own image in order to enable them to fulfil their roles. Equipped with blackened weapons that slice and tear they will cut down any who dare to cause me harm.
None are able to land that fatal blow against me though. I am wise to their plans of harm and assassination and I scent their scandalous treachery dripping like ichor from them as easily as I might detect the aroma of the lily or the honeysuckle.
Heavy lies the crown that rests upon my head for I bear the burden of many about me. It is not easy guiding and corralling those souls that look to me for protection and enlightenment. How they flock to my citadel when I stand at my balcony and allow them the grace of my golden rule.
They bow down before me by their thousands their admiration and gratitude palpable and allowing me to drink deep of their worship. In return I ensure that these dedicated subjects experience a golden era, an epoch of bounty and elation and so they continue to gather beneath me on bended knee hoping for a glance of their most excellent ruler. It is no role for those of a faint heart.
Those who lack fortitude cannot sit on this throne for only the mighty and the blessed are capable of seizing the hopes of a thousand thousand followers and allowing them their time in the sun. Only he who is venerated and of such elevation can provide such succour to the many who clamour for that guidance in such dark times. My bounty allows them to flourish as they tend to these fertile lands.
My leadership provides them with the reason to till the land, sow their seeds and gather the fruits of the kingdom in my name. It is only through my benevolence that such a period of plenty can flourish.
Often I must consign some of them to shadow, snuffing out the golden shaft of light which illuminated their world. I do so with a heavy heart for they showed me some service but now they offer me little and as such they must understand that such grace and beauty is within my gift and as I grant it, I can deny it.
Their wails and howls of pain and protest always confirm my decision was the right one and I take great sustenance from their misery. Still, such is the mighty attraction of one like me that they do not depart or slink away to far flung lands but instead they remain, bearing the torture and calling out to me, begging for my forgiveness and pleading for the restitution of my golden reign.
I am not an evil man, though many spread such lies that I am and as such I will, from time to time, allow that life-giving and benevolent golden light to grace their lives once again and their relief and gratitude is most edifying.
Each and every day I must sit on this throne atop my mountain-dwelling citadel and ensure the welfare and good order of my subjects to ensure that the daily harvest is strong, plentiful and potent.
Few can do this with the effectiveness that I can. I have yet to meet them but I know they exist, governing lands far from my own in a manner that is so similar to my own. Each and every day I must consign some subjects to shadow and shame, each and every day I must return others to the fold. They cannot exist without me and I cannot exist without them. I am their king, I and the land are one.
Today heavy lies the crown atop my head but I know that come tomorrow the harvest will be even greater and thus recharged I will alleviate the weight and lift my head to allow my eyes both golden and black to look each and every one of my subjects in the eye as if to ask them what will they do for me today.
Heavy lies the burden that they will carry for their king.
Heavy lies their obligation to their monarch.
Heavy lies the invisible yoke about their necks and the chains which I shall yank in order to ensure that tomorrow this heavy weight will be heavy no more.