[ESP-ENG] A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - The Golden King [el rey dorado]

The Golden King

[[[El Rey dorado- Versión español]
Hello friends, it's a pleasure to participate in this dynamic. A picture is worth a thousand words, this is my contribution, I hope you like it. I think it's a great exercise to practice creativity.

The figure of the king stood silhouetted against the horizon, imposing yet worn. He rode upon a golden steed, a symbol of his triumph, but there was no trace of joy on his face. A deep sadness clouded his eyes, reflecting the weight he carried on his shoulders. Victory, so longed for, had not brought with it the peace he craved.

War, with its cruelty and desolation, had left deep scars on his soul. He had never imagined the day he would have to lead an army, and less so at his advanced age. The clamor of battle still echoed in his ears, mingled with the cries of the fallen and the laments of the wounded.

He had returned victorious, adorned with the gold of victory, but he had lost the most precious thing: his son, his heir. The war had taken everything from him, leaving only a vast emptiness in his heart. The conquered lands, now under his dominion, could not give him back the lost time or ease his pain.

He looked at the gold that glittered around him and felt a deep bitterness. What good was all that wealth if he could not share it with his son, if he could not assure him a prosperous future? The weight of the gold was unbearable, a symbol of an empty and meaningless victory.

At that moment, the king realized that true wealth lies not in material possessions, but in the love of loved ones and the peace that reigns in the heart. War, with its lust for power and glory, had only brought pain and suffering.

He rode slowly towards the palace, his gaze lost on the horizon. His reign had begun with blood and tears, and he did not know if peace would ever come to his lands. Only one thing was certain: the gold that adorned his crown could not buy him the happiness he so longed for.

[[El Rey dorado- Versión español]

El Rey Dorado
La figura del rey se recortaba contra el horizonte, imponente pero a la vez desgastada. Cabalgaba sobre un corcel dorado, símbolo de su triunfo, pero en su rostro no había rastro de alegría. Una profunda tristeza nublaba sus ojos, reflejo del peso que cargaba sobre sus hombros. La victoria, tan anhelada, no había traído consigo la paz que anhelaba.

La guerra, con su crueldad y desolación, había dejado profundas cicatrices en su alma. Jamás había imaginado que llegaría el día en que tendría que liderar un ejército, y menos aún a su avanzada edad. El clamor de la batalla aún resonaba en sus oídos, mezclado con los gritos de los caídos y el lamento de los heridos.

Había regresado victorioso, adornado con el oro de la victoria, pero había perdido lo más preciado: su hijo, su heredero.

La guerra se lo había arrebatado todo, dejando solo un vacío inmenso en su corazón. Las tierras conquistadas, ahora bajo su dominio, no podían devolverle el tiempo perdido ni aliviar su dolor.

Miró el oro que brillaba a su alrededor y sintió una profunda amargura. ¿De qué servía toda esa riqueza si no podía compartirla con su hijo, si no podía asegurarle un futuro próspero? El peso del oro se le hacía insoportable, símbolo de una victoria vacía y sin sentido.

La guerra, con su afán de poder y gloria, solo había traído consigo dolor y sufrimiento.

Cabalgó lentamente hacia el palacio, con la mirada perdida en el horizonte. Su reinado había comenzado con sangre y lágrimas, y no sabía si la paz llegaría alguna vez a sus tierras. Solo una cosa era segura: el oro que adornaba su corona no podía comprarle la felicidad que tanto anhelaba.

link imagen
Imagen principal editada en canvaagradecer por impulsar esta linda dinamica a @Freewrite House, @justclickindiva @freewritehouse