They walk in shadows cloaked in pride,  
With fists clenched tight and eyes turned wide,  
Their words like chains, so hard, so cold,  
Bending wills, as stories unfold.  

They claim dominion over our grace,  
Silencing voices, erasing a face.  
What power feeds this hunger deep,  
That in our tears, their demons sleep?  

To them, we’re vessels, tools, and means,  
Yet fragile hearts wear warrior’s sheen.  
They crush with deeds, they carve with hate,  
Unleashing darkness at heaven’s gate.  

How cruel the hand that wounds and maims,  
That calls love power, masked in shame.  
How can a world still turn its eye,  
When every scream’s a whispered cry?  

They fear our strength, our rise, our fire,  
So they chain our souls to quench desire.  
But we are oceans, wild and deep—  
Rising tides they cannot keep.  

In silent wars, we fight to breathe,  
With every bruise, our spirits seethe.  
Yet even when they draw their line,  
They’ll never steal what’s truly mine.  

For in these scars, our voices rise—  
No more the prey, no more disguise.  
Though fear may reign, though shadows fall,  
We stand together—unbreakable, all.