The Nights

You praise the bloom, the golden rise,

The steady hands, the knowing eyes.

You see the crown, the throne, the peak,

Yet miss the nights they dared not speak.

The silent wars, the unseen scars,

The dreams once lost in falling stars.

The hunger clenched, the debts unpaid,

The whispered prayers, the hope delayed.

The doors slammed shut, the roads gone cold,

The weight of “no” a thousandfold.

The friends who left, the trust betrayed,

The faith that bent but never swayed.

You see them now—refined, composed,

A fire that burns but never shows.

But every giant, fierce and free,

Once crawled through storms you didn’t see.