THE KINGDOM OF ONE

There once was a kingdom. 

It took years to construct. 

Each stone was placed carefully, and the moat took months to dig out. 

There was truly one odd factor to this kingdom, it only held one person. 

The king formed the castle, and made each room the way he liked. 

And he would roam around admiring his handiwork. 

He didn’t mind he was alone, he actually preferred it that way. 

Alone he would stay for many years. 

Visitors would come and spectate the kingdom from afar. 

They would praise the high walls and large moat, but they would never enter. 

As the years past the king realized that he was a very poor king. 

Nothing he created had any lasting value, his pride diminished. 

One day there was a knock at the gate and the king woke with a start. 

“Who could that possibly be?” 

He put on his crown and robe and scurried to the door. 

Outside the wall, he could see a beggar. 

“What do you need?” 

“Greetings my fine sir, I’m here to collect my kingdom” 

The king was taken aback. 

“Excuse me, this is not your kingdom, it’s mine.” 

The king swung the door open and glared at the man. 

“Who do you think you are?”

The man bowed in respect. “I am the True King, and it seems you don’t want this kingdom deep down anyway.

The King walked over to The Beggar and looked him over. 

“You look nothing like a king, why do you call yourself one?”

The Beggar smiled, “Truly A Good King does not appear like what the world deems he should. 

The King couldn’t understand the Beggar. 

He sounded legitimate, yet he couldn’t fathom a Beggar taking his kingdom. 

The Beggar walked inside the door, “How long have you been the king here?”

The King followed behind him. “My whole life, as long as I can recall.” 

The Beggar walked over to the wall, looking up, down, and sideways. 

“It looks good from afar, but truly I tell you this isn’t built to last.” 

The Beggar pushed on the wall and the tiniest amount of pressure collapsed the wall. 

The Beggar and King coughed heartily from the dust cloud. 

The King was outraged. “How dare you do such a thing!”

The Beggar brushed off the dust from his cloak. “I’m doing this for your own good King, what you’ve built here is an empty shell, there’s no life in this kingdom.” 

The Beggar had a grin stretch across his face, “There’s more that needs to be torn down. 

The Beggar ran throughout the kingdom pushing down buildings and smashing windows. The King was screaming as he chased him “Stop! Stop! I order you to stop!”

The Beggar ignored the King and continued to tear everything apart. 

Finally, He ran into the throne room. 

The King followed behind him, heavily breathing. “Do not touch my throne.” 

The Beggar walked up to the throne. “My Son, this has never been yours.” 

The Beggar smiled as he sat softly on the throne. 

The King was confused yet in awe. He never sat on the throne with such high confidence as this man did. As if it truly never was the king’s at all. 

“I’m not a king am I?” 

The Beggar smiled. “You never were supposed to be. That’s my role.” 

The Old King fell to his knees and began to cry. “What am I supposed to do now?”

The Beggar walked over to him and offered his hand. “You follow me to My Kingdom, and you serve me there.” 

The Old King wiped his tears and looked up. “I hope you’re a better king than I was.”

The End.