The world may press, the storms may rise,  But fire still burns beneath my skies.  Though winds may howl and shadows creep,  My soul stands tall, my roots run deep.  Each scar I wear, a tale to tell,  Not chains of loss, but proof I fell—  And proof I rose, though worn and torn,  A warrior fierce, reborn each morn.  The road ahead is steep and wild,  Yet I will walk, though hurt, though tired.  For in my chest, a heartbeat roars,  A drum of strength that won’t be ignored.  No doubt can steal the fire inside,  No fear can shake where hope resides.  I stand, I rise, I face, I fight,  Unshaken still, bathed in the light.