The Throne Unseen Poem by ashok jadhav

The crown feels heavier than any hand could bear,
Its weight a quiet mirror of misjudgment.
He sits alone where counsel once prevailed,
And sees the ruin spread beneath his gaze.
The walls that echoed praise now hum with doubt,
And every corridor recalls a choice undone.
He counts the errors, small and large alike,
The promises that faltered in his grasp.
No herald speaks to soften what is known,
No law absolves the cost of what he missed.
Regret presses in, relentless as a tide,
And memory shapes itself into accusation.
Yet in this reckoning, a spark remains,
A chance to learn, though consequence persists.
To rule is to confront both might and flaw,
And bear the truth that crowns and power cannot hide.
The throne endures, indifferent as the stone,
While he measures all that he could not save.