Beneath The Weight (Poem)

With each breath, I feel the crumble of my rib cage,
Hearing the bellow above me, the height of your rib's rage.
A world built on power, heavy in its wake,
Where silence is currency, and I must partake.


You stand tall, your words sharp as knives,
As if the earth should bow and your will survives.
But I am not fragile, nor meant to be caged-
Your fury can't break me, though I've been enraged.


The weight of years presses, relentless and cold,
An unseen hand pulling, its grip too bold.
Telling me to whisper, to yield, to bend-
But I rise from the ashes, time and again.


They say I should shrink, to soften my fire,
That my voice is too loud, too sharp, too dire.
That in silence, I should find my place-
A delicate doll with a perfect face.


But I will not be what they try to define,
I will not shrink beneath your design.
You carve my worth with your hollow gaze,
Yet fail to see the fire that blazes through my days.


For I am not your quiet, meek reflection,
Not a shadow waiting for your direction.
I am the storm in the distance, unseen-
The fury behind the silence you deem serene.


The roots of the earth will steady my stand,
For I am the force you cannot command.
For though your storm may rage and roar,
I am the rain that softens the floor.


I am the quiet that burns like a flame,
The power you fear?untamed, unclaimed.
With each breath, I feel the crumble of my rib cage,
But I will not break, not in your rage.

       Day 19, Month 12 (Nightal), 185 AR
       Love Ebreus