In the quiet corners of existence, Where calm waters meet the tempest’s edge, Dwells a soul, serene and kind, A person who avoids the fray, the clash.

They notice every ripple, every shadow, Yet remain silent, their lips sealed, For they know the monster concealed, Behind the mask they wear so well.

Within, they carry burdens heavy, Words unspoken, emotions suppressed, A day will come when the weight becomes Too much for one fragile heart to bear.

The mask cracks, fissures forming, And the monster within breaks free, No longer bound by silence, Its anger unleashed upon the world.

Once, they were human, seeking peace, Valuing harmony with those around, But every man has limits, thresholds, And this person’s resilience knows no bounds.

Cross that line, breach their sanctuary, And expect a storm, fierce and unyielding, Yet endure, and you’ll gain respect, For their silence is not weakness—it’s strength.

Behind every smile, every act of kindness, Lies determination, a quiet resolve, This person surprises, inspires, A force to reckon with, a silent storm.
© Madman