Heavier Than Gold

He wore his sorrow like a suit,
not ragged, not wild.

A man with everything
but the way he spoke of loss,
of love endured,
of choices bound in duty,
was heavier than gold,
heavier than stone.

I cried because I felt the quiet weight
of someone who had everything
and yet still longed
for something untouchable.

Sorrow can be so calm,
so steady,
it slips into you like water.

And I cried not only for him,
but for all the Kings
who carry fortunes and empires
and still ache
for something
they cannot name.