Have you ever felt your fire burn dim,
That all you do is not for him—
Not for you, but for their sake,
Yet they still say you make mistakes?

You give and give, your hands go dry,
You hold your tongue, you swallow pride,
You wear the weight they never see—
And wonder, is the fault in me?

You say, “It’s love, I do this all,”
But no one catches when you fall.
You’re left unheard, your soul turned blue—
And start to doubt what once felt true.

A father gives, yet gets no name,
Except when there’s someone to blame.
A son will love with silent cries,
But gets no light, just darker skies.

No one says sorry, they just let go,
And hide their pain so none will know.
They march on paths that never bend,
Pretend to care, but never mend.

The ones who never feel this ache—
They’re lucky souls, make no mistake.
And some will heal with time and grace,
They’ll find their peace, their rightful place.

But what of those who bear it long,
And think this silence is not wrong?
They’ll pass it down in quiet ways,
A haunted love that never stays.

They’ll stop the talks, they’ll lose the thread,
Yet try to help through tears unsaid.
A meal, a coat, a roof, a hand—
All done in silence, never planned.

But hearts don’t speak in measured tone
When love is caged and left alone.
The cycle spins, it scars, it brands—
This silent curse of being a man.

- Niko