Upon my brow, the crown rests heavy and cold,
A symbol of power, yet a burden untold.
In gilded halls, I walk alone,
A ruler’s fate, to be carved in stone.

Eyes watch closely, every word and deed,
A sovereign’s life, where shadows breed.
The throne’s grandeur, a facade so bright,
Hides the turmoil, away from sight.

The weight of legacy, on my shoulders pressed,
In moments of silence, I find no rest.
A kingdom’s hope, in my hands constrained,
A ruler’s heart, forever pained.

Yet in the dusk, when day meets night,
A fleeting peace, a brief respite.
The crown, though heavy, I bear with grace,
For in my duty, I find my place.