Im Unbreakable

There are words that fade,

washed away in rain-soaked regret.

But some carve deeper,

etching themselves into skin,

into bone, into the quiet corners

of the soul.

You are not made of endings—

you are fire that refuses to die.

Let them call you reckless,

wild, stubborn in your survival.

Let them watch as you build from ruin,

as you turn ashes into gold.

"I am both the wound and the weapon—

the story they could never erase."

Wear it like armor.

Live like it’s truth.

Let no one unwrite you.

Beneath the weight of shattered years,

Where silence drowns the loudest tears,

A quill still moves—its strokes defy

The cage of time, the fate, the lie.

It dips in wells of truth and pain,

Of battles lost, of love, of strain.

Yet every line it dares to trace

Resurrects a sacred grace.

No sword could carve a mark so deep,

No chain could hold what words can keep.

Though voices crack and bodies bend,

The ink endures. It will not end.

Each letter sings of hearts once torn,

Of dreams reborn, of rebels sworn—

Of souls who bled but never broke,

Their stories fire in every stroke.

So read the script in shadows cast,

By hands that held but could not clasp.

In parchment breathes the untamed flame:

The ink unbroken—still we name.