Threshold

He fed the mirror with his name Till iron learned the shape of flame. The stair gave way beneath his cry; What stood too tall forgot the sky. I watched the door that would not yield— Its key lay rusting in the field. Not bent by knees, nor split by might, It turned for those who carried night. Moral ✨👀 Arrogance mistakes noise for strength and collapses under its own weight. Humility is not silence, but grounded confidence. Those who carry truth without pride find doors opening— not by force, but by worth.