Aurous Immortalium

There's tales floating around of the sort much as whispers borne about in the dark of the abundance in lore saying deaths not a lie and living just a perpetual chore. So an ancient king of renown once thought to himself truly. Should he be accurate on both counts, well not as much really at least as far as loves go, his was something considered as far as having a say then would go. According to her long-suffering nature time and again, as he reached out for the thorns of which he was ever so fond for the balm they brought to his scars if not for the blessing. You know, those wounds deep down that last unseen on the soul. Then for the lingering lasting depression that lingered much as one would in walking out of a valley, he tended to keep a whole lot of awful mixed up in company. Suffice to say nothing of this man's emotions when he'd found himself missing nor yet the heart of the matter borne out so far. Though life in these places is awful hard for the thinking much less that of the being. Surely life at the Father's house was better off returning. To them then would he listen, as those also that sought much of their clothing as after the fashion of the roses and lilies wild in the growing of which he was ever so fond and the love of the Father then in the end.