The Fire They Couldn't See" By

I started with nothing, not even a plan,

Just calloused hope in a working man's hand.

No golden degree, no mentor near—

Only doubt, and a dream, and a mind unclear.

They laughed at the spark they couldn’t feel,

Said dreams like mine aren’t real or "real."

But I built in silence, line by line,

While the world kept shouting, “Fall in line.”

No stage, no spotlight, just code at night,

A flicker of purpose beneath flickering light.

And when failure knocked like it owned the door,

I kept on building, wanting more.

Vical was born where no one looks—

Not in towers, but torn-up books.

A tool, a truth, a voice, a name,

From scraps of nothing, it rose in flame.

And now they see what once was laughed—

A brand, a vision, a founder’s craft.

But what they missed, and always will,

Is the quiet war fought with iron will.

So here’s to the ones who start with none,

Who rise before the race’s gun.

Not born with wings but learning to fly—

Vical lives so others can try.