©2025 Samantha Syrnich — All Rights Reserved
She does not chase truth.
She carries it—
quietly,
steadily,
like a lantern held close to her ribs.
It moves with her breath,
glows through her scars,
and hums beneath her footsteps
like something ancient
and unteachable.
Truth is not loud in her.
It doesn’t need to be.
It shows itself in the way she rises
after being knocked down,
in the way she refuses to twist her soul
to make others comfortable,
in the way her eyes stay soft
even when her voice must be firm.
She has walked through fire
without letting it turn her false.
She has held her own silence
when the world wanted her to shout.
She has spoken when trembling,
and stayed when leaving
would have been easier.
This is the kind of truth
that cannot be performed—
only lived.
And so it walks with her:
in the gentleness she refuses to surrender,
in the boundaries she learned to honor,
in the unshakable calm
of a woman who knows
exactly who she is.
Truth moves like a shadow at her side—
faithful,
quiet,
ever-present—
and every step she takes
makes the world
just a little more honest.
— Samantha Syrnich
The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth 