Now that I’ve reached the end, I realize that the people will never trull be satisfied.
After the death of my father, they hungered for a new leader.
A boy was put in his place, with a wife who was unused to rule.
They saw no use for me, though I was a royal too.
I was of the people, I created, I did not throw my gold at the walls.
When I was not allowed to mount my mother, I decided not to go to court.
I befriended the people, spent much of my time with authors and artists.
That I could not rule was a shame.
That the boy was put to death was even worse.
The people couldn’t know how hard it was to rule a country, to protect it.
All they knew was that they were angry, that something was wrong.
So he died for their inability to use their voices and ask.
His wife and children went with him.
But that wasn’t enough, the next leader followed in his footsteps, met the same fate.
The people couldn’t figure out what they actually wanted, so they put to death whatever displeased them.
By the time they decided… It was too late. Many had died because of their inability to think rather than act.
Maybe it would have been different,
If I had been allowed to rule,
Maybe they would still be alive,
Maybe the people would be happy,
Maybe I could finally rest, in this world where my eyes are wide shut.