Strength is not the hunger to prevail,

nor salting wounds so others fail.

It is a voice that softens space,

that meets your fear and leaves you grace.

Small hearts climb by pushing down,

borrowing height from another’s crown.

But rooted souls don’t race or prove—

they build the path so all may move.

True power travels light and slow,

no need for banners, flags, or show.

It turns the night a shade more kind,

by seeing pain we try to hide.

It knows the cost of quiet tears,

the weight we carry year to year,

and breaks the chains not through command,

but by an open, steady hand.