I was no king, but to call me 𝗠𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘀 was no mistake. Still, I fancied myself an artist, a creator, bending the truth to be called 𝗣𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗼. 

But all I really am is nothing more than a coward. I am neither a king nor an artist. So I shall run. Run from the truth, run from My Rose, and myself. 

Because I 𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 to myself!!! 

To them...