Softness is her power
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My homeland has carried its wounds in silence for far too many years. A land once blooming with culture, kindness, and courage now stands bruised under the weight of hands that were never meant to hold it. Yet even in the darkest nights, its spirit refuses to disappear. Every whispered prayer, every broken dream, every quiet act of bravery becomes a spark—tiny, but unstoppable. And one day, all these sparks will rise together, burning through the shadows that tried to claim us. A nation can be wounded, but it cannot be erased. Not when its people choose hope over fear, and courage over silence
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If a downfall were music
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