What Is Power?

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What is power?
Is it a feeling that grows by the hour,
Or just a vivid dream
That always seems too far?

What is power?
Is it a mother fighting to see her family rise,
A woman waiting at the door with tired eyes?
Is it the echo of my fears,
Or a scene born from my darkest years?

Isn't it funny—how power grows with gain?
Isn't it strange—how fear becomes our chain?
Isn't it wild—how we celebrate the pain?

I’m still unsure what power is,
But I know this much so far:
My time to shine
Is not too far.


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