In the grand halls where echoes softly tread,
A crown rests, gleaming with tales unsaid.
Each jewel a memory, each gold a dream,
Whispering of kingdoms, a silent gleam.

Through ages past, where legends begin,
Warriors rise, and battles sing within.
The weight of power, both gentle and grave,
On the brow of rulers, the mighty and brave.

Beneath the velvet sky, where stars align,
The dance of destiny and royal design.
Thrones of marble, stories carved in stone,
The legacy of kings, their seeds sown.

Yet in the shadow of the gilded throne,
Lies a heart, a soul, often left unknown.
For the crown is but a symbol, a fleeting guise,
Of the dreams and hopes that never demise.