My Throne

         I sat down. Here it was. A throne, at one point, in which I sat, king of everything important. To you, it'd simply be a tile-floor that met the base of a blue-brick wall. But to me, it was my throne. My home away from home.
         It was at my throne that some of the greatest moments happened. Nothing to exciting to anyone outside. But to me, fireworks lit up everyday. Because it wasn't something anyone cared about. It was everyday things.
         I would sit at my throne with a queen at my side. What a beauty she is. Other members of our court would join us. But for me, my queen was all the treasure I needed. Why pillage and plunder when my gold was next to me?
         But now I sat, in my throne, alone. No court, no queen. Just me. I would love to go back and be in those days again. I would love to be king. But most of all, I want my queen back. I would pillage and plunder to regain my lost queen.
         I stand up. I take a longing look at my throne. As I walk away, I think of her beautiful, smiling face. My queen.