It’s Not Over Till I Say So

It’s Not Over Till I Say So

You thought the silence meant I walked away,

That I had laid my voice down in the dust,

You mistook stillness for a final end,

You placed your faith in something built on rust.

I heard you talking through the half closed door,

My name reduced to something small and done,

You spoke as if the ground had sealed on me,

As if I had already come undone.

There is a fire that answers only me,

It does not bow to doubt or borrowed fear,

It waits beneath the surface, still and sharp,

A truth that grows each time you think me clear.

You counted me among the things you lost,

You filed me somewhere no one looks again,

Yet here I stand with breath that will not break,

Still writing strength into a shaking pen.

It is not over till I speak the end,

Not while my pulse still hammers out its claim,

Not while my shadow stretches through your doubt,

Not while you still remember me by name.

So hold your victory gently in your hands,

Do not believe it stronger than it seems,

For I have walked through darker things than you,

And built myself from worse than broken dreams.

When I return, it will not be the same,

No quiet echo, no defeated soul,

It will be louder than you ever thought,

Because I choose when I become the whole.

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