I am violated—again, again—
A life etched in lack, a chronicle of pain.
Yet within this void, my spirit grinds its blade,
Friction of survival, the price unpaid.
Each violation strips me to the bone,
Yet scourges clean the filth I’ve known.
Barriers shatter—not with a cry, but a roar—
As astral fire floods through the cracked door.
Newton’s third law lives in my veins:
For every wound, a greater force remains.
Exhaustion? No—I am the storm’s eye,
Tireless. Untamed. The lightning they cannot defy.