Is it the echo in your chest, or the whisper that says "again" when no one is listening?
Is it staying when it’s the hardest, or is it leaving when it saves you?
Does courage live in triumphs, or in the failures you stood up from?
Is courage loud enough to silence fear, or quiet enough to walk beside it without running?
Is it born in battles, or in choices no one sees?
Is it born in the heart, or carved into you by every scar you survive?
Is it cold steel, or a steady breath? This text is hosted at novｅlfire.net
Is it opening a door you never knew it was there?
And in the end, is courage not the fire itself, but the will to rise again from gilded ashes?