was once a king who ruled a territory south of the north. This kingdom had been governed for years by a little gentleman with a mustache who was very wicked, and that was burying the remaining free men and their freedoms. The king, the son of a family of ancient monarchs, had been educated under the mandate of this gentleman to succeed him when his black cease beating heart.
When he died the evil lord, the king happened and the echoes of free men that still echoed through the mountains, seas and borders, got a pain in the head and chin of the new crown monarch. His Majesty was forced to yield and allow citizens to cast their votes did not fall his head, or rather his crown.
citizens, or rather its political class, seized power and followed the king with his crown, more like a lighthouse than a yoke.
The king grew older, his eldest son married and had children, and free citizens were governed themselves recognized him as the architect of their freedoms. Not imagine a better old age, on the cushion of his seat, without even having to govern and the mattress of gold and applause that offered the people.
But as I say, the monarch was the more he began to feel weak, and the voices of free men mingled with the story and returned as an echo that reverberated through the mountains, seas and borders ... CONTINUE
0 comments:
Post a Comment