O
orthognathicenjoyer
Iron
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2022
- Posts
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"This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion."
In shadows dwelt, away from light,
A form, a figure, lost in night,
Whose visage mirrored silent pleas,
Yearning for a different guise, a gentle ease.
"This is why you were chosen," whispered fate,
Not the bold, nor those in affluent state,
But you, the unseen, the once forlorn,
Who've felt the thorns of contempt and scorn.
For the mighty, in their gilded mask,
In power's glow unheedingly bask;
It's you, transformed, who'll understand,
Strength's true weight in a surgeon's hand.
With each alteration, precise and clear,
The mirror reflects someone new, someone dear.
Emerging grace, a phoenix's flight,
From ashen self to radiant light.
But recall, oh newly crowned,
In this journey that you've found,
True beauty lies in empathy's embrace,
In the strength of soul, not just the face.
For the weak have felt the sting, the silent jeer,
They value depth those aloof revere.
Through each incision, the old skin sheds,
But preserve the heart, where true beauty embeds.
So, rise, reborn, in society's garden,
A sculpture of self, seeking no pardon.
Yet, wield your power with compassion's decree,
For you know the cost, you've paid the fee.
In shadows dwelt, away from light,
A form, a figure, lost in night,
Whose visage mirrored silent pleas,
Yearning for a different guise, a gentle ease.
"This is why you were chosen," whispered fate,
Not the bold, nor those in affluent state,
But you, the unseen, the once forlorn,
Who've felt the thorns of contempt and scorn.
For the mighty, in their gilded mask,
In power's glow unheedingly bask;
It's you, transformed, who'll understand,
Strength's true weight in a surgeon's hand.
With each alteration, precise and clear,
The mirror reflects someone new, someone dear.
Emerging grace, a phoenix's flight,
From ashen self to radiant light.
But recall, oh newly crowned,
In this journey that you've found,
True beauty lies in empathy's embrace,
In the strength of soul, not just the face.
For the weak have felt the sting, the silent jeer,
They value depth those aloof revere.
Through each incision, the old skin sheds,
But preserve the heart, where true beauty embeds.
So, rise, reborn, in society's garden,
A sculpture of self, seeking no pardon.
Yet, wield your power with compassion's decree,
For you know the cost, you've paid the fee.
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