To those who hate me

They call themselves my critics, Whispers sharp like winter's sting, Throwing stones behind closed curtains Yet I still rise, I still sing. Haters line the edges of my light, Flickering shadows, loud in fear. They fear the flame I never begged for, The strength I earned year after year. Enemies wear familiar faces, Some once danced in my grace. Now they sharpen tongues in silence, And curse my name in empty space. Backstabbers dressed in smiles, With hands that once held mine. Their betrayal writes my story But not the ending line. Call them what you will Opponents, foes, adversaries. Each one just a stepping stone In my rise from broken to legendary. So let them talk, let them sneer, Their noise is nothing new. For every wound they tried to open Only made me more true.