Strength Unseen
Strength is not the roar that shakes the skies,
Nor the sword that glitters where ambition lies.
It is the silent vow, the steady hand,
The will to rise when none can stand.
It thrives not in moments of easy grace,
But where storms carve deep lines upon the face.
It is the step taken when fear commands stay,
The voice that whispers, "Forge your own way."
Strength is the shaping of failure to gold,
The courage to speak when the silence is cold.
It is patience drawn tight like a bow in the rain,
The quiet endurance through sorrow and strain.
It lies in the heart that has broken, yet mends,
In the soul that has stumbled but rises again.
It is forged in the dark where no light dares to tread,
A fire that kindles where hope might have fled.
Strength is the burden no others may see,
The battles fought silently, fiercely, and free.
It is building when doubt would command you to cease,
It is fighting for joy, for hope, for peace.
It blooms in the moment a hand lifts another,
In standing for justice, for stranger and brother.
It sings in the silence, it laughs in the rain,
It is shelter in anguish, and triumph through pain.
Strength is the choosing of kindness, not wrath,
The shaping of dreams from the dust of the past.
It is vision that sees what the doubters deny,
The wings that remember how boldly to fly.
So wield it with purpose, let trials refine,
The steel of your spirit, the gold of your mind.
For strength is not given, nor found by decree—
It is built, it is earned,
It is born within thee.