The king's reign, no matter how long, is but temporary. The king knows this. He knows that, if not by evil adversaries or righteous competitors, he will inevitably be brought down by ceaseless, brutish time -- the ultimate victor. And when that moment comes, when the bejeweled crown must be lifted from the king's head, he will bow humbly in honor and humility. As the sun rises for his triumphant rival, the king will summon what's left of his fading strength and undying dignity, asking his scarred, broken body to make the painful journey towards the setting sun, yet his countenance regal and still, somehow, radiating the lush memories of a thousand battle victories and the knowledge that only an enviable few ever deserve to wear the crown. And in those final steps of immortality, the king raises his head one final time. For that singular ephemeral flash, his nobility shines a dim beacon into the night...

Alone among people.
Do you see me?

Whisper in the wind.
Do you hear me?

Adrift in my mind.
Can you save me?

Find me, search for me.
Where am I? Where have I been?

Keep breathing, keep running.
Keep the sun bright in your eyes.