In a kingdom far, where the echoes moan,
A king once ruled, his heart a stone.
His mind, an iron fortress bold,
Duties his crown, his soul it controlled.
In corridors of power, his steps resound,
Love and laughter, he rarely found.
His family's warmth, a tale untold,
For duty's call, his heart he sold.
With each decree and kingly chore,
The kingdom flourished, yet hearts grew sore.
His subjects praised, his rule admired,
But his family's love, he never acquired.
His castle walls hid his silent cries,
As one by one, love's embers died.
His kingdom vast, his heart austere,
He stood alone, devoid of cheer.
The crown he wore, a weight profound,
His kin, his subjects, nowhere found.
A lonely monarch, revered but lone,
His heart of stone, his soul unknown.
Yet in his eyes, a flicker of pride,
For duty's path, he didn't stride aside.
No tear, no grief, his facade so strong,
He stood tall, though everything's gone.
Amidst the ruin of his reign's grand theme,
A king stood tall, in duty's gleam.
With heart of stone and mind of iron cast,
His legacy built, but a lonely past.
No comments:
Post a Comment