Ink & Shadows: The Words of Osiris j Reapor

People speak of strength with tightened fists,
And of battles proudly won.
As though the measure of a man
Is all that he has done.

I’ve walked those dark and lonely roads,
Paved by rage and pride.
I’ve felt what happens to a heart
When mercy is denied.

I’ve trained these hands through countless years
To answer pain with pain.
I’ve watched one moment born of rage
Leave decades marked by stain.

I’ve learned that violence takes its toll,
It’s always a little more.
But kindness bears a heavier weight,
One worth living for.

So now these hands reach out instead,
Where once they chose to fight.
They lift the weary from the ground
And walk them toward the light.

A meal left at a stranger’s door,
A blanket against the cold.
A gift with no return address,
No story ever told.

A whispered prayer for someone’s child,
To a heaven I do not trust.
Still hoping someone hears my plea,
Though my faith is dulled with rust.

I sit with those whose world gave way,
Who thought they stood alone.
Sometimes the greatest gift we give
Is letting pain be known.

I do not need a grateful smile,
Nor monument or claim.
The greatest good I’ve ever done
Still happened without my name.

I pray they’ll never know it’s me,
Or why I chose to stay.
That isn’t why I reached my hand,
Or gave part of myself away.

If someone sleeps a little more,
Or finds the strength to stand,
That is enough to fill my heart;
No praise need fill my hand.

For kindness asks a curious thing:
To carry, then let go.
To plant a seed you’ll never see,
Still trusting it will grow.

If all that’s left when I am gone
Is love where hate would live,
Then I have lived the life I chose,
And I can finally forgive.

My strength is not the weight I’ve thrown,
Nor victories I’ve earned.
It’s every time I buried wrath,
And every bridge not burned.

Because the greatest feat of strength I’ve done,
Though I would never boast,
Was becoming, day by day, the man
The child inside me needed most.