The leaves fall from a top their thrones.Once living there,kings towering over us know falling to their death.They once were decorations on their caste tops,paintings them with rubies, yellow diamonds and citrine. Now their castles look vancant and dead.These once lively castles now are shacks singing their lonely song as they sway back and forth in space.They now are bodies. These bodies used to have purpose but they were killed by the cruel wind of winter.As if to mock them that same wind blows them around to see how it has murdered all they know.The wind knowing they will never see the light agian freezes their souls so they can thaw in hell.