Ruins

He trudged across the ruins, lazily, wearily, the memories as clear as blatant lies, past that remained unanswered, somewhere in the crevices within.

The stones, lying in the pathway orphaned, the staircase, broken, tattered, and yet visualizing those lost moments that dated back centuries; the throbbing headache not diminishing his zeal, rather guiding him ahead to further mysteries.

And there it stood, the golden casket, adorned with lust and blood, painted in red, evil, malice and jealousy.

Dust whirled across his shoes as he walked towards reality, leaving an imprint on the barren floor that had forgotten visitors.

He opened the lid of the casket, the skeleton tumbled out. hugging his presence, a soul travelling through time, and rebirth finally had a new definition, as he remembered how he was brutally murdered by his brother for the prized throne, the tears and grief finding solace somewhere in torn pages of history.


This Micro-Fiction is shared with Five Sentence Fictions - Ruins.