Unseen Warriors

They never saw the cracks in my smile,

Only the light it lent to their darkness.

They never asked what it cost me

To hold a world I was never meant to keep.

Grief sat beside me—

Not loud, not kind—

A shadow tracing every breath,

As I pretended to live

While quietly dying.

I taught my eyes to hold back their floods,

And my heart to bury its storms.

Now the river has dried inside me,

Leaving a desert

Where no flower dares to bloom.

I built walls around my wounds

And called them strength.

But in the stillness of night,

The bricks felt heavier

Than the pain they tried to hide.

I spoke to myself softly,

Like a wounded child I once was.

And in that whisper of kindness,

I found the voice

I had buried for years.

No medals, no applause—

Just quiet strength etched in scars.

Resilience wears no crown,

Yet it holds up empires

The world will never see.

So let us honor the unseen warriors,

The ones who carried storms in silence.

For in their quiet courage

Lies the truest strength—

A reminder that even unspoken tears

Hold the power

To change the world.

© Waquil Aziz Bhuyan