The king within his castle looked out upon the sky, The dead-still air seemed restless, the sunlight seemed to die. The clouds came marching onward, an army dread and chill; Within his purple chambers, the king kept watching still. A rippling of thunder spread like a wave of rage And lightning smote the land like pen of doom upon a page And like a midday robber, who bursts upon his prey The wind rushed in about the king and snatched his crown away. The sea below was foaming with the madness of a beast And screaming with the hopelessness of prisoners long deceased. A mighty wave rose higher, and washed away the sky And then devoured the castle before the king could fly. The sunbeam’s kiss awoke him, the breeze so gently sighed He rose, and like a grain of sand, was pushed back by the tide. The storm had claimed his crown, and so, he was upon the shore One of a billion grains of sand, a common man once more.