The Weight of the Crown by Makin'Salad 👀

Silence. Always the silence now.
It used to be full of petitioners and sweet, sharp lies.
Now it is only echoes, and the echoes know my name.

They told me, “Be decisive.”
Firm. Unwavering.
Gods, I am tired of being unwavering.
Tired of being strong for people who only love the crown.

This hall remembers everything I tried to bury,
Every signature, every seal, every brave lie spoken clean.
They wanted gifts, they wanted war, they wanted miracles on demand,
They bowed, they praised, they begged, they blamed, they kissed my hand.
Now the throne feels like a cage,
And my breath is a prisoner too.
They ask for sacrifice like it is nothing,
Like a heart is easy to remove.

And what do they offer me in return,
A song, a statue, a line in a book,
As if ink can keep you warm at night,
As if history can hold you when the light goes out.

For the realm, they say, for the people, they say,
Put the many over the one you love.
But if their safety costs my soul,
Tell me what kind of crown is that.
If I rule as a hollow man,
What kind of kingdom survives.
I keep the walls from falling down,
While I fall apart inside.

For the realm.
For the people.
For a future I may never touch.

I swore an oath with iron in my mouth,
To protect them, all of them, even when they doubt.
But oaths are knives with polished edges,
They shine until you slip.
I feel the court outside these doors,
A thousand throats that want me fixed.
They do not see the cost of holy decisions,
They only count the wins.
They do not hear the quiet screaming,
When the cheering ends.

What if the many are wrong.
What if fear is wearing their faces like a mask.
What if I save them and lose myself,
And call that duty.
What if a kingdom is just a room full of strangers,
Asking for more.
And what if love is the only true thing left in me,
And I am about to burn it.

There is no other way, is there. (is there)
I have to believe that. (I must believe that)
Or I am only cruelty with a title.

For the realm, I carry the curse,
For the people, I wear the blade.
I will choose what they demand of me,
And I will hate myself the same.
If the crown is built from ashes,
Let it burn in my hands tonight.
I will guard their dawn with my ruin,
And call it righteous, and call it right.

Forgive me, Elara.
Forgive me.

2282/7500

Silence. Always the silence now. It used to be full of petitioners and sweet, sharp lies. Now it is only echoes, and the echoes know my name. They told me, “Be decisive.” Firm. Unwavering. Gods, I am tired of being unwavering. Tired of being strong for people who only love the crown. This hall remembers everything I tried to bury, Every signature, every seal, every brave lie spoken clean. They wanted gifts, they wanted war, they wanted miracles on demand, They bowed, they praised, they begged, they blamed, they kissed my hand. Now the throne feels like a cage, And my breath is a prisoner too. They ask for sacrifice like it is nothing, Like a heart is easy to remove. And what do they offer me in return, A song, a statue, a line in a book, As if ink can keep you warm at night, As if history can hold you when the light goes out. For the realm, they say, for the people, they say, Put the many over the one you love. But if their safety costs my soul, Tell me what kind of crown is that. If I rule as a hollow man, What kind of kingdom survives. I keep the walls from falling down, While I fall apart inside. For the realm. For the people. For a future I may never touch. I swore an oath with iron in my mouth, To protect them, all of them, even when they doubt. But oaths are knives with polished edges, They shine until you slip. I feel the court outside these doors, A thousand throats that want me fixed. They do not see the cost of holy decisions, They only count the wins. They do not hear the quiet screaming, When the cheering ends. What if the many are wrong. What if fear is wearing their faces like a mask. What if I save them and lose myself, And call that duty. What if a kingdom is just a room full of strangers, Asking for more. And what if love is the only true thing left in me, And I am about to burn it. There is no other way, is there. (is there) I have to believe that. (I must believe that) Or I am only cruelty with a title. For the realm, I carry the curse, For the people, I wear the blade. I will choose what they demand of me, And I will hate myself the same. If the crown is built from ashes, Let it burn in my hands tonight. I will guard their dawn with my ruin, And call it righteous, and call it right. Forgive me, Elara. Forgive me.

0/500