I once wore pride
like a second crown.
My name stood above kingdoms,
untouched by doubt,
untouched by shame.
Beside me stood my Queen,
wise, fierce, untamable.
I believed
the heavens themselves
had chosen her for me.
But time reveals
what love disguises.
For she did not love the man,
only the throne beneath him.
And before my own people,
she shattered the regal silence
I spent years building.
My aura cracked,
like stained glass beneath war.
Revenge still whispers to me
through the corridors of the castle,
yet grief weighs heavier
than fury ever could.
For even now,
I have not found another
who carries her shadow.
So let this King
rot gently upon golden sheets,
surrounded by imperial luxury,
while loneliness
rules the kingdom instead.
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