The Throne of Pride

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Upon a gilded throne, I sat so high,
Cloaked in my achievements, I touched the sky.
With every boastful word, my kingdom grew,
Yet deep within my heart, a whisper knew.

I wore my pride like armor, gleaming bright,
Convinced that I was destined for the light.
But shadows danced behind my castle walls,
Echoes of my arrogance, the warning calls.

I ruled with a fist, demanding all to bow,
Unyielding in my stance, the world was mine now.
Yet in my restless nights, I faced the truth,
That love and kindness faltered in my youth.

For in the mirror's gaze, I could not see
The emptiness that lingered, haunting me.
The throne of pride, though grand, was built on sand,
And every ounce of strength slipped through my hand.

As whispers turned to roars, my world would shake,
The higher I ascended, the greater the ache.
For on that throne of pride, I’d find my fall,
A lesson etched in time, to heed the call.

So let me cast aside this heavy crown,
And seek the humble path, no longer drown.
For in the heart of grace, I’ll find my way,
To rise from ego’s ashes, a brand new day.

---
Gyana

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