Going Home After a Long Day

the Tragic Prince, on his white horse, sped off to the land of Gold seeking rest and recuperation from the battles of the day. No dragons sought his breath. No ogres desired his death. He fought sounds that came soft or not at all; sleep, the only respite from the barrage of unintelligible sounds. He rushes to sleep and sweet relief. All I can do is look at the dust from the hooves and think how good that sleep must be.