by, Samantha Syrnich TLC
Justice doesn’t come
like a hammer—
it comes like the tide.
Quiet.
Certain.
Refusing to forget
what was buried beneath the surface.
The sea knows things
that courts of man
and the establishments they uphold
forget—
or pretend they never saw.
It cradles the bones
of the unheard,
carries secrets
stitched into the salt,
and still
it sings of hope.
Not the naïve kind—
but the kind carved
by wind and weather,
by survivors
who still stand
after being
washed clean
and torn open
by the truth.
I have walked that shoreline—
barefoot,
bruised,
but breathing.
And I have whispered
my story into the waves
just to see
if they’d carry it farther
than any corrupted bench
ever dared to.
They did.
They always do.
Because water listens
when power won’t.
Because whales remember
when men erase.
Because the sea—
unlike silence—
echoes.
And from its depths,
a new kind of justice rises:
not persecution—
but presence.
Not revenge—
but recognition.
Hope,
not as a promise,
but as a witness.
A rising tide
that answers only
to the Law of the Sea—
and the Law of God.
Where the highest rule
still whispers:
DO NO HARM.
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The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth 