Eyeliner of passion, fire for motivation,
I carve my name on the stone of salvation.
The gem in my ring gleams brighter than day—
A mirror of me, blazing my way.
The traitors cry as I rise, pulling knives from my back,
Let them yap—clearly, I’ve got what they lack.
I don’t care now—my silence is stitched
With the kind of success even their heirs can’t eclipse.
My niche on this earth was carved at birth,
A soul too sharp for this cowardly world.
Mother bore more than a child—she bore a flame,
And nature crowned her brave, giving my name.
Let the dogs bark; they won't cry when I'm gone.
I live for her—she’s the reason I’m strong.
Forget the world, their noise, their bother—
I fight for one: she’s the mother.