The Strength That Lives in Silence

Strength does not always roar.

Sometimes, it whispers beneath the ache —

a steady pulse that says, keep going.

It’s the way a heart softens instead of shatters,

how tears can fall and still water hope.

It’s the quiet in a soul that refuses to surrender

even when the world grows heavy.

Strength wears many faces —

the mother who rises again with love still in her eyes,

the dreamer who believes in the unseen,

the one who forgives when no one deserves it,

the hand that reaches out even after being burned.

True strength is not about walls,

but windows that we open— the light that enters through the cracks.

It’s born in the moments we think we cannot go on,

and yet something gentle inside us whispers, yes, you can.

It’s the way the heart bends toward hope

even when it has every reason to close.

It is not the fire that destroys,

but the ember that endures.

And when the night grows longest,

Strengh is the breath that reminds you

that Dawn is already on its way.