In the dim-lit halls where whispers creep, Your words, etched on the wall, run deep, Waiting for my stumble, my fall to greet, But fear not, for I'll rise with steady feet. Their laughter echoes through the night, Names hurled sharp, igniting the fight, I gather these stones, building might, For when I speak, they'll see the light. They urge to pray and seal my fate, Yet I defy, refuse to placate, In a cornered chair, I cultivate, Shaking, pondering powers innate. Once a child, shadowed and confined, Now a voice unbound, no longer blind, Love, the anchor, in heart and mind, Constant truth, that I have defined. Let them wish for my demise, But sympathy's guise won’t disguise, I stand tall, despite their cries, The misery molds the one who defies.