Perched atop his favourite branch, in his most be humpd tree, the br ingestie Prince surveyed the land. His land. He had dominion anywhere all that he could see. He had unchallenged authority oer and unparalleled respect from some(prenominal) animal, from the lowliest insect to mightiest beast. It was his right to rule, and his business to do so well. And so he did. He was a leader, a mediator, and confidant, and friend, worthy of the revere and respect shown to him. With his guidance and control, every animal in this hostile community lived in sacrosanct harmony, with each other and the land. Certainly, this kingdom- his kingdom, was for all. In every way, it was perfect. It was his very own Eden.         The following aurora, the Prince awoke with a start, retrieved from the depths of calmness by the excited seethe of a multitude of animals congregated in the clearing below. Curious, he scampered to the rim of the branch. Below, he saw the animals were tug around Gog, an ageing potter around who was famous for his great tales of positioning and travel. His stories werent really believed, but he had returned with an exotic flower. The Prince was breathless, taken aback by its simple, archaic beauty.
With its thin, light-green stem, and full, red petals that glistened with dew in the cockcrow sun, and were raised, it seemed, in reverence to the sky, appraise life itself, it was unlike anything he had ever seen. Gog explained that it was a rose, assemble in the cooler lands towards the north. As the multitude stared in awe, the previous(a) monkey passed the rose to his grandson, Magog, who solemnly vowed to keep it safe as long as he lived. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The Prince was in a give tongue to of shock, and, for several moments, If you want to good turn a full essay, ready it on our website:
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