A Message To A Warrior

Two men live beneath one skin.

One choking on the smoke of shame,

one drowning slowly in pain.

They share the same haunted story,

but walk it in different lanes.

One claws through chains for freedom,

bleeding knuckles against invisible walls.

The other stacks stones into kingdoms,

building thrones that slowly become his gallows.

No armies march beside them.

No banners carry their names.

Just whispers of broken promises

and the echo of their own blame.

Their armor rusted from secrets.

Their swords dulled with regret.

Both stripped naked by their own lies,

standing in shadows they haven’t outrun yet.

Would you listen to their cries

when the night grows too loud to ignore?

Or are you just another quiet wound

they learned to carry before?

And when the war finally silences—

when both surrender their flame,

the cruelest truth remains:

The two men looked the same.

Same bones.

Same blood.

Same face in the mirror’s frame.

For the kingdom and the prison

were built by the same man

who answered to the same name.