Stifled speech stuffed deep down inside for decades. Fortresses constructed of fear and anxiety defend emotions that cannot be identified. A thousand forms of detachment liberate the soul from ever truly experiencing the pain attached to loving. The art of letting go submits to the art of war. This is my kingdom. These are my people. Peasants ruling the castle and the kings left out to die in the fields. Alone, the jesters walk the apple orchards hoping to find solace their quiet presence.