Pain is the essence of strength
born from nights that broke you,
from storms that tried to drown you,
from wounds you thought
would never close.
Strength is the essence of a beast
The fire in your chest
When the world says “stay down,”
But you rise anyway.
The grit in your teeth
When life swings again
And you swing back harder.
The beast is the essence of you
unyielding,
untamed,
unapologetic.
You are the survivor
That fear couldn’t kill,
the fighter
that doubt couldn’t chain,
the soul
That pain could not be erased.
And when they ask
What made you this way?
You’ll smile and say
It was the pain.
It was the strength.
It was the beast.
It was me.
