Honor and Shadow
He wears the medals, takes the praise—
A warrior forged in fervent blaze.
But in his eyes, a deeper fire—
A knowing born of pain entire.
True honor blooms where silence reigns,
Beyond the flash of proud campaigns.
Around her neck, the skulls align—
A rosary of death’s design.
She knows the cost, the blood, the toll,
Yet carries still the rebel soul.
The sacred path may lead through hell,
Where even shadows learn to dwell.
