The wisest figurehead is humoured rather than honoured when he can only be succeeded by death. He’s exhausted and only stays awake out of habit.
You needed your dragons for us to need you. Now they outlive you even though you diminished them; rest now, egomaniacal hero, your flames smoulder low.
But your light burns in the young. That fire burns brightest when its uncontained (though it isn’t very useful).
No. The revolution is a spark, a flame, a blaze, the roaring gates of hell that devastate reality. If the dragons cannot be fought they must be swallowed by the abyss, and spring will come.