Dishonest

She loved him when he was nothing,

when his dreams were only dust.

She held his trembling hands and whispered,

Rise… you can become so much.

She stitched his wounds with patience,

fed hope into his weary frame.

With her own heartbeat, she shaped a future,

and called his fragile spirit home.

Through nights of doubt, she stood beside him,

her faith a lantern in the dark.

She laid her soul along his pathway

so he could walk toward his spark.

But when his name grew stronger,

when the world began to know his face,

he forgot the quiet woman

who had carried him to that place.

He shattered her with betrayals—

a thousand cuts she never deserved.

Her love was repaid with wandering footsteps

and promises left unheard.

Still she stayed in silence,

hoping love might heal his ways.

Her tears became an unseen river

flowing through their darkest days.

And when the earth received him,

the systems meant to guard their vows

failed her—society scorned her

for standing upright through every storm.

Even in death, he wronged her,

leaving shadows in his wake,

her name dragged into ridicule,

her spirit forced to bend and break.

The world saw not her kindness,

nor the empire she helped him build,

only whispers sharp as arrows—

her gentle story never told, never healed.

Yet still she stands in quiet mourning,

a heart too heavy, yet unbowed.

For though he broke the love she gave him,

her strength remains—unbroken, proud.

She was the woman who built a man,

though he forgot the price she paid.

And though the world and its laws betrayed her,

her soul remembers every day.