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From ashes, I rise, no crown, no name,
Forged in fire, untamed by shame.
Each fall, a step, each scar, a light,
In darkness, I carve my endless fight.

I seek no praise, no fleeting fame,
I burn within, I am my flame.
Not for the weak, nor for the crowd—
I rise alone, unbroken, proud.

The world may tremble, the storm may roar,
But I will stand, forever more.
For strength is born from deepest pain,
And through the loss, I’ll rise again.
I noticed that the original Golden, I Rise didn’t receive the recognition I hoped for, so I took it upon myself to refine the message. This new version, Unyielding, is a more focused, powerful expression of the core philosophy I’ve been striving to convey. It's direct, and every word is crafted to emphasize resilience, inner strength, and the relentless drive to rise above adversity. I believe this captures the essence of what I wanted to say in a clearer, more impactful way.
Do not come too close—God will cry.
A silent watcher in the endless sky.
A duty held for endless years,
Yet even gods can drown in tears.

To see it all and never change,
To watch, unmoved, through joy and pain.
What if, one day, He let it go?
A whisper lost beneath the snow.

Would He surrender? Would He break?
Would He abandon what’s at stake?
If even He could lose His mind,
Then what of us, so weak, so blind?
This poem explores the weight of responsibility, the fear of losing purpose, and the unsettling thought that even the strongest may break. If divinity can waver, what does that say about us?
 Feb 25 Twisted Poet
Paige
The words feel heavier when they're standing before you
You feel your throat swell and your tongue twist
As hard liquor feeds at your cavities
Finally the courage to word your pain
But no one likes a  sober man , who swallows liquor to comfort the strain
 Feb 6 Twisted Poet
Paige
A calming stretch of existence
Spiralled into an abyss of discomfort
Burnt out by the joy of realisation
Eyes dancing on the horizon
Maybe we are Orphic
Two fleeting souls
Craving the familiarity of scabs between our teeth
Questions
What are you doing to me ?
Self destruction
With no red button
Internal spontaneous combustion

A flipped switch
Quick curve ball pitch
Veered straight for the ditch

No countdown timer
No red, no blue wire
Just a smoldering dumpster fire

Struggle with each next breath
Welcoming a last breath
A timeless back and forth with death

©2024
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