Crowned, Yet Still Alone

He wears a crown that grows heavier each year—not for the nation, but for the absence it can’t fill. The world sees a steady leader; it doesn’t see the man who knows his children’s lives from a distance, measuring time in missed moments.

He tells himself there’s still time—that one act, one word, could change how he’s remembered. Not as a figure on a balcony, but as someone who finally chose connection over silence.