I walked through fire, let it sting,

felt the loss of everything.

Ghosts still whisper, scratch my skin,

but I won’t let them pull me in.

Blade of doubt against my throat,

I wear the scars, but still I float.

No savior comes, no hand to hold,

just me—alone, but fierce and bold.

I carve my name in silent stone,

a war-born soul, a heart my own.

No chains, no gods, no need to bow—

I am enough. I am now.