The King of Castle Bastille...

The king knew not what could save the world from him. Paranoia had eaten away at his mind and doubt his soul. He withdrew within his castle to save his people from his tormentous rule. The walls he built around his castle were sky high. But he could not blame his solitude on anyone else as he had built it himself brick by brick, stone by stone, chasing away his queen and all his ministers, his counsel and all his subjects, till he was entombed within all alone. He left no windows or doors in the wall, so none could walk in to see his fall. Alas he didn't realize that there would be no way for him to come out either if he ever tried, and that loneliness shall smother him in its dreary company. All he could wish was for his lionheart to come by, with a canon and a battering ram to break the cold grey wall but he knew that too was beyond the iota of hope left for him. He missed his courtesans and his table, the company of his dear loyals, and the love he shared among them. A thousand sins had he committed and a hundred atrocities, still the price he paid for it was far fetched even to his enfeebled mind. All he knew was the he had to endure for the greater good, and so he pledged to remain ever so, the King of Castle Bastille.