18/05/2025
She Never Wanted to Be a Warrior
A return written in silence and fire.
She came in light.
Not to fight,
but to illuminate.
She carried warmth, instinct, clarity,
the kind of knowing that bends,
but does not break.
Not a threat,
unless you cast shadows.
But they could not meet her light.
So they tried to unmake it.
They came one by one.
Then two by two.
Then in quiet multitudes.
Not always with weapons,
sometimes with smiles,
with silence,
all with the slow erosion of worth.
Their aim was simple:
Break her will.
Unravel her knowing.
Make her doubt what she was born carrying.
They did not understand:
She is older than their systems.
She has fallen before — and risen deeper.
She carries memory in her bones.
Not memory of pain,
but of origin.
She is the threshold,
and the flame.
The one who walks away,
and returns on her own terms.
Her soul did not rise in vengeance.
It waited.
Watched.
And when the time came,
it moved.
She is not coming back to explain.
She is coming back to reclaim.
To walk the path that was burned.
To speak the truth they buried.
To retrieve what was always hers.
She never wanted to be a warrior.
But they made her choose:
disappear,
or become.
She chose return.
Not louder.
Wiser.
And this time —
undeniable.
đź’›
