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At thirteen, titled a prince, I entered the board, At fifteen, attending court, the path grew mazed and lost. To court officials and build a faction was never my desire, How could I have foreseen being trapped in this deep vortex? Wishing to end the struggle, yet feared by the Crown Prince, Hard to turn back from this backward journey, more desolate than life itself. If I look back and ask where my final rest shall be, My body dead, my soul dissolved, with scarce any bones left to bury.