I’m not the storm that shakes the land
I’m the stillness strong enough to stand.
Not the flash that splits the sky,
But the whisper kings and prophets cry.
I was carved from echoes, grief, and flame,
From love that left but still remains.
My father’s voice, now etched in soul
Still guides me where I can’t control.
I’ve felt the world collapse and spin,
But found my power deep within.
Not in noise or grand parade.
But in the quiet choices made.
I do not chase, I call things near,
What’s meant for me will see me clear.
I build from loss, I rise from dust,
With vision stitched in sacred trust.
Some rise for fame. I rise to heal.
To show the world what truth can feel.
To speak with fire wrapped in grace,
And let my scars rewrite the space.
I don’t perform, I pour my breath
Into the void where dreams faced death.
And every word that leaves my chest
Is proof I’ve walked through every test.
I wear my pain like hand-spun thread,
Not just to shine, but where it’s led.
Forgiveness forged this holy light,
Not just to win, but to do right.
I’ve died in ways the world won’t see,
To birth the man I’m meant to be.
And what remains is not just strong,
It’s built by love that waited long.
So when I speak, it’s not to shout,
It’s to remind what life’s about.
In every pause, in every breath,
I honor loss. I honor death.
Because in a world that breaks with sound,
I stand where thunder lays me down.
Not loud, but true, my soul runs deep…
I am the silence fire keeps.
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