Born half-demon. Not crowned, not cursed, built to endure what would finish the first. They did not approach me; they lived in my breath, small eyes in silence that hums under death.

You fear breaking down and losing control. You pray you stay whole when the dark takes its toll. I fear I won’t. That I cannot fall. That I function through fracture, through ruin, through all.

Deemed steady. Deemed strong. Safe to rely. A neck that won’t bend and a pulse that won’t die. Strength is a burden when breaking won’t start: a prison of muscle enclosing a heart.

If I were weaker, the spiral would win. If I were colder, I’d hollow within. But I’m not empty, not yet stone - bleeding human, bleeding alone.

They flare when confronted and refine in fight, feed on defiance to sharpen their bite. The more I withstand, the more they ignite. I am the fuel in an engine of spite; my refusal calls them back every night.

My morning star bursts - no halo nor sign, just iron and memory forged out of fight. Not salvation. Not divine. Just weight in my fist - and that weight is mine.

Smash! Not fury, not blazing light. Smash in the rhythm of endless night. No glory or anthem. No stars above. Standing on loss in absence of gods.

Prime physique. Steel spine. Steady breath slow. You call it heroic - you don’t even know. Nothing great in refusing to fall; strength won’t banish the pit at my core - only ensure I endure it more.

Breath tight in my chest late at night, a quiet that whispers something’s not right. Empty rooms after everyone’s gone, Dopamine prayers to avoid feeling small, the ghost of a touch that once softened it all.

You see discipline, body remade. Calling it divine would be a mistake. Not glow. Not crown. Just the shadow of one that refused to break down.

Demons fear one thing - not violence or might, not discipline or endless fight. They fear my half-breed blood soft in my veins. They fear how I’ve loved - and that love remains.

It pulses beneath the hill of the slain, beneath each victory carved out of pain. Not dead. Not silent. Hardened by war. Love didn’t vanish - it makes me endure.

Demon days, they multiply. 

The pain doesn’t stop.

And neither do I.