The Unbound Spirit (Male Not Female)

Not carved from whispers, moonlight's gentle gleam,

Nor from the softness of a flowing stream,

My spirit's forged in fire, a blacksmith's might,

A hardened steel that conquers day and night.

No silken threads entwine my rugged soul,

No fragile blooms within my heart unfold.

I stand a mountain, weathering every storm,

My roots run deep, defying every norm.

The calloused hand that holds a weathered blade,

Knows not the touch of lace nor serenade.

My voice, a thunder, cracks across the sky,

A warrior's roar, a battle cry.

Not tears that fall, but sweat upon my brow,

A testament to battles fought somehow.

The scars I wear are badges worn with pride,

A map of victories, where dangers hide.

The hunt, the chase, the thrill of open ground,

Where muscles strain and adrenaline resounds.

The primal urge, a fire in my core,

To push beyond, to conquer and explore.

No gentle touch, no whispered, tender word,

My language forged in action, deed, and sword.

Loyalty, the bond that holds my spirit true,

Brother to brother, a steadfast, loyal crew.

The weight of leadership, a burden borne,

To guide and protect, a lesson to be sworn.

A stoic gaze that hides a heart of gold,

For those I hold dear, a story yet untold.

The setting sun, a canvas splashed with fire,

Reflects the embers burning with desire.

Not for a lover's touch, nor fleeting praise,

But for the purpose that sets my spirit ablaze.

The solitude, a strength I hold so dear,

A chance to ponder, to face my greatest fear.

The silence speaks, a language understood,

The voice within that fuels my boundless mood.

Not bound by beauty's chains, nor soft desire,

My strength lies deeper, burning ever higher.

A wellspring of resilience, fierce and bold,

A spirit untamed, a story to be told.

Not cast in moonlight, nor in gentle rain,

But forged in fire, I stand, a force unchained.

This is my essence, the man I choose to be,

The unbound spirit, eternally free.