Walking in those dusty paths and also rough roads, that walks together he rules the world on his own.Scaring the could of any living soul.His eye decipher the fearful walk.He ain"t fear of anyone, that ain"t ruled by anyone.His paws are full of blood and soul complete of passion.His elegance is remarkable than any type of kind.He masks the death in his rigor.But all above, is not why the is called a king, Neither because he controls the world, Nor since his elegance stand the tallest, no even since his eyes convey his superiority.He is called a king, Not because of his majestic walk, But since I have seen, That, A king just bows under to his queen.He is called a king, Not due to the fact that he is a king, But due to the fact that I have seen, That, A king only bows down to his queen.

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