Power
Power is every heart’s crave,
yet power digs every grave.
Power is desired by all, yet power is what makes us fall.
Power promises strength, they claim, yet power is the cripple’s name.
Power whispers sweet in the ears of the bold, turns kings into beggars, the young into old.
It cloaks itself in gold, in thrones and in fame, but strips the soul bare, leaves nothing but shame.
Power corrupts the pure, it blinds the wise,Turns every truth into beautiful lies.
Power is the illusion that tricks every heart: It promises heights, then tears life apart. It lifts you to peaks where the air is too thin, then laughs as you plummet, again and again.
In the end, what everyone’s chasing isn’t gold, isn’t glory, isn’t becoming a story.
True power is peace. No hunger for praise, no thirst for their gaze, No void that another must come fill your space you stand whole, unmoved, in untouchable grace.
C