I am tired of the game of power.

The masks I wore have become heavy.

The trophies I sought — empty.

Now I yearn for the soft strength,

the quiet knowing,

the unshakable essence beneath all the noise.

No longer interested in the game,

I turn inward,

where power is not taken, but remembered.

And there,

in the stillness,

I find who I was before the world told me who to be.