I have carried battles in my chest,
Armor made of weary breath,
Every dawn a call to stand,
Every night a clenched-up hand.

Scars have been my only crown,
Victory weighed my spirit down,
Even triumph tastes of ash,
A fleeting spark, a fading flash.

Now I dream of gentler skies,
Of quiet streams where silence lies,
No more wars to prove my name
Only peace to quench the flame.