Beyond the Walls of Tradition

You make me wish I could vanish far beyond these obsidian walls. Unlike the bars of a prison, there is no space to squeeze through here; no powder blue sky to peer at between the rusted iron.

You wish to smother me as you did my dear brother; lavishing him with the knightly trappings worthy of your lofty station; an ostentatious family tradition hundreds of years in the making.

But he - and all your misplaced dreams - have died.

And I will not be another grave weathering away beneath the gloomy shade of the kingdom you deify.