The Golden Throne

The Power We Seek Is Within

We often build thrones for others, placing them above ourselves—only to be left empty. This poem invites a quiet revolution: reclaiming that power, rooting ourselves in self-control, and embracing the true, lasting throne that resides within.

We built them high and set them there,

Where others rested, and we would dare

To raise up hopes, illusions spun,

But thrones of air held none but one.

Parents, lovers, gods we praised,

Each set above, we endlessly gazed.

Yet kingdoms cracked, walls gave way—

When built for those who didn’t repay.

The paradox is soft, yet clear:

The ones we lift aren’t always near.

No pedestal can hold the weight

Of trust misplaced or fragile fate.

We build no thrones for others now,

But arm ourselves with solemn vow.

No longer high on fragile air,

The golden crown is ours to wear.

To stand alone, yet hold with grace,

Is to reclaim a rightful place.

No vacant seat can rule your soul—

The only reign is self-control.

No need to search beyond the sky—

The seat we seek stands close, nearby.

Within ourselves, the light is known,

The true and lasting golden throne.