"Your Lord, if your wish is to amuse me, then retrieve your acts." She interrupted me, and I knew I had done her erroneous. 
"My apologies. I did not know when to ask, speak, talk, or request for your name. My utterances before were out of nervousness, my princess. I don’t know the effects it has had, but I am glad. Glad of your presence, and my presence as stated, as long as our speeches rhyme, am happy. "
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He knew his stand, he knew his label, he knew.., he sure knew. A bastard’ To some it was just a name, an English decent name, but to many, especially those in the highest ranks of the social class, knew, they knew what kind of hefty drift being associated with such a labeled man meant to his whole, they knew. And he,… he.., was born as one, a bastard. A bastard, a bastard was what he came to know his name as,…
Lord Willock,.. a duke’s son but a King’s decent to be precise, lived a life of now, as tomorrow was nothing but a luck. The boy, knew all, he knew love, ooh how would he forget the face of the dazzling girl who made her forget all his worries, right on the ballroom dance floor. How would he forget, how would he forget, he was a bastard, if every conversation seemed to have nothing but the name on it.., However, maybe destiny was meant to be lenient or tough on him, its all his fate to face.
Dearest reader, let’s embark on the journey of Lord Willock, and see what lemons life throws at him, and his coping mechanisms, in times of tragedy, and maybe he was more fated for good fortune than just a label..? A labeled man was meant for ‘death!!!’ A word and statement well known..,

Lord have mercy.

Profound Bound

The interactions, conversations, and everything had come to an end. The most intoxicated and the most eager to leave had already said their goodbyes and departed,..as others set to carry their bags and make their ways out. I had indulged myself in some wine and was wandering through the areas where the guests had been. Various exhibitions were set up for them to enjoy and potentially purchase. I understood a lot about art, particularly literature and anything related to aesthetics and the philosophy behind art expressed through words and other mediums. I was sipping my wine and observing one particular artwork. It depicted a seemingly painful scene—a man bleeding as if from the touch of love, with a blade piercing through his heart and bloody stains on the blade. His hand clenched the blade, as if he didn't want anyone to assist in removing it, even stopping another hand reaching out to help. 


WILLOCK 29