Behind the smile, a storm resides,
a weight concealed, a truth that hides.
The world believes the mask you wear,
yet silent scars still linger there.
No trumpet sounds, no crowd will cheer,
yet courage whispers, fierce and clear.
To walk through pain with steady breath,
to guard your soul from quiet death.
Invisible wars, unpraised, unknown,
but every step is strength you own.
Your victories, though hushed, remain
as powerful as those proclaimed.
So lift your head, though none may see—
the hidden battles crown thee free.
In silence forged, your spirit stands,
a warrior with unshaken hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem