Come back to me, O strength I knew,
Before the world had split me through—
Before the weight, before the fall,
When I still stood, when I was all.
You hid in bones, in breath, in will,
In nights gone numb, in moments still.
But I remember how you burned—
And I am ready. You’ll return.
Not strength that roars or seeks to win,
But what survives beneath the skin—
The kind that grows where scars were laid,
That does not ask, but does not fade.
I call you back from ash and stone,
From every time I stood alone,
From every time I broke, then healed—
My silent sword, my unseen shield.
Return to me—not as I was,
But forged anew without applause.
Let others doubt, let others flee—
Come back, old fire, and walk with me.
Thank-you for reading.
Much love and Light,
Brenda Marie Fluharty
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This poem is a powerful ode to resilience—an invocation of inner strength that doesn’t shout but endures, forged in quiet battles and unseen scars. It speaks to the unbreakable core that remains after life’s fractures, calling it back not as it once was, but wiser, steadier. A beautiful reminder that true strength is often silent, but never gone. 🔥✨
Thank-you