And so the pauper asked the prince:
"What would you do if tomorrow was the last day you got to say goodbye to somebody?
What would you wish for if time would swallow everything you spat upon back then?
What would you ask for if you were granted one answer for the rest of your life?
What would you say in your last sentence to she who sits far away in those dark eyes?
What would you blame the blood of the innocent and tears of the perservering on?
What would you shout out to the world in unforeseen confessions?
What would you do if it loving somebody was the only mistake you'd want to make?"
Startled, baffled, and lost, the prince walked away, head bowed with dismay and shame.
He walks, not knowing where to go, forgetting that travel was never about the destination but what you make of the journey.
And so, the prince walks.