The Kingly Throne
In the quiet forge where thoughts arise,
Guard the gates of inward skies.
Let not each fleeting impulse reign,
Nor trade your will for moment’s gain.
A spark of pleasure, brief and thin,
Can mask the cost it hides within.
What glitters now, so swift, so bright,
May fade before the fall of night.
Restrain the mind from restless chase,
From envying another’s place.
For sorrowed crowns and borrowed gold
Leave deeper hungers, never told.
What others build, what others claim,
Is not the measure of your aim.
Each path unfolds by different thread,
By unseen hands and choices made.
Seek not the weight of worldly store,
For wealth demands an endless more.
Desire, once fed, will only grow
A fire that feeds on what you sow.
Let pride not root in dust and name,
Nor anchor worth in passing fame.
The earth will take what earth has lent;
Hold lightly all that time has spent.
Turn from the pull of fleshly call,
That binds the will and dims it all.
Let discipline, both firm and kind,
Refine the edges of the mind.
Shun sloth that dulls the spirit’s blade,
And gluttony where strength will fade.
In tempered will, true freedom lies
Not in excess, but in the wise.
For mastery is quiet, deep,
A vow the waking soul must keep.
Not loud in gain, nor harsh in loss
But steady as a compass cross.
So stand within, composed, aware,
With measured thought and rightful care.
For he who governs self alone
Holds greater wealth than kingly throne.