A World We Long to Live In

We crown ourselves
with yesterday’s wounds
and wonder why we bleed;
choose kings whose hearts
beat echoes of old sorrows
and wonder why
the world does not heal.

What if power
is not meant
to rectify
but to create?
What if leaders
are not meant
to avenge the past
but to dream the future?

One raised in rejection
by princeling courts and party brass.
One fueled by ghost-echoes
of a broken Soviet promise.
One burdened
by the slow reckoning
of a century’s shame.

Not villains—
but vessels,
carrying resentments
older than their hearts,
echoes of wounds
we won’t release.

We cling to resentment,
settle ancient scores,
as if justice means
living forever
in wounds
that were never ours
to begin with.

Enough.

Let us demand
leaders whose wounds
are healed into wisdom,
whose hands
carry no knives
for past ghosts,
whose eyes
look forward,
dream forward,
lead forward.

Let our leaders
mirror our rising hearts—
no longer wounded,
but awake,
alive,
and ready
to build
a world
we long
to live in.