harrycane287
Wellknown Ace
Before the lungs inhale the waiting air,
A silent warrior wakes within the deep.
The seed must tear the earth with savage care,
To break the heavy, suffocating sleep.
No creature asks to enter in the fray,
Yet none surrender to the crushing night.
We bleed, we bend, we carve a stubborn way,
For to exist is to demand the light.
From tide to sky, from root to rising bone,
The song of life is sung in iron keys.
We do not walk the quiet paths alone—
We are the storms that bend the ancient trees.
A silent warrior wakes within the deep.
The seed must tear the earth with savage care,
To break the heavy, suffocating sleep.
No creature asks to enter in the fray,
Yet none surrender to the crushing night.
We bleed, we bend, we carve a stubborn way,
For to exist is to demand the light.
From tide to sky, from root to rising bone,
The song of life is sung in iron keys.
We do not walk the quiet paths alone—
We are the storms that bend the ancient trees.
