People’s Reign
The walls started crumbling down, it's cracked golden ceiling collapsed in fiery blaze, no matter how much lavishly the castle was adorned in gems, gold, and silver, the foundation was still made of rotten wood.
No matter how much it sparkled under the rays of the glaring sun, beneath all of it was overgrown poison ivy's and thorned vines with fossilized molds and algae.
The last regnant would now be over, the once impenetrable looming high walls of the castle now looked shabby old ruins with black smoke under the black rain.
The emperor vanished beneath the walls, for he failed to fled, with it's thick belly swaying, loaded with his people's life and dreams, hopes and tears, sweat and blood.
Shrewd in his own way, he died gnawed by his people's wrath, slaughtered by his beliefs, asphyxiated by his own decaying breath.
The castle was now unable to be salvaged. Soldiers became a traitor for their loyalty of their land, became a criminal under the rule of never-ending degeneracy and wickedness. They betrayed the power for power.
Rebels held high, the spoils of their freedom. It was the people's honor.
Cheering as the people made their existence known, it was a battle of their own. Voiceless are heard and from then on it will be, unrecorded memories shall be buried in the ashes and will start a new.
And from this land they will build a stronger foundation of wood, dirt, and stone.
And so let the people reign. They made it reign. The fortress is now for the people.