The Rise of the Injured Lion

I stood where I fell, in the ruins of my past,

The echoes of failure still whispering fast.

But no, I refuse to let them decide,

This time, I rise—my fear set aside.

The wounds still sting, the scars still burn,

Yet in their pain, I see what I’ve learned.

A fallen fighter, but not yet lost,

For victory comes, no matter the cost.

They say to go with the flow, let life lead,

But I am the writer—my own fate I breed.

This time, the ink won’t be tears of regret,

But words of power they’ll never forget.

Fear lingers, its grip cold and tight,

But I will not kneel—I was born to fight.

A wounded lion—watch how I roar,

More dangerous now than ever before.

So let the battle begin, let destiny test,

I will not stop until I’ve given my best.

No more doubts, no more delay,

I write my next chapter—my own way.

And when they see me rise from the fire,

Stronger, fiercer, climbing higher,

They will whisper, they will say,

"This is the real fighter—who never swayed."