Author Archives: Samantha Syrnich TLC

About The Hand Behind The Phoenix Quill— I’ve lived many lives within one — some born of light, some forged in fire. Each left its mark, and in the ashes, I found my voice. The Phoenix Quill was never just a name; it became my heartbeat — a place where pain turned to purpose, and truth was no longer something to survive, but something to share. I am a poet, artist, advocate, and storyteller — guided by a love that refuses to die quietly. Through words and imagery, I tell stories of resilience, of rising when the world says you’ve fallen too far. My work carries pieces of the people and places that shaped me — veterans, children, the voiceless, the forgotten — and the fire that demanded their stories be heard. Every poem, every painting, every creation under The Phoenix Quill is born from that promise: to turn heartbreak into healing, to honor truth even when it burns, and to remind others that they, too, can rise. This is my life’s work — to give voice to the silence, hope to the weary, and beauty to the broken. Welcome to The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth. Where ashes become art — and every word remembers how to rise.

The First Place I Felt Safe


by Samantha Syrnich
© 2025 Samantha Syrnich TLC — All Rights Reserved.

The ocean was the first place I felt safe.
Not because it was gentle—
but because it was honest.

It never pretended to be less powerful
than the force it truly was.
It never hid its storms
or dulled its voice
to make anyone comfortable.

It raged,
it broke,
it rose—
and somehow I recognized myself in it.

When the world tried to drown me
in silence,
betrayal,
and manufactured shame,
the sea taught me a different truth:
that even the wrecked
still carry light.

The lighthouse was my witness—
a lone spine of stone
standing against every unrelenting wave,
its lamp refusing to dim,
even when the sky split open
and the world fell dark around it.

I understood then:
survival doesn’t mean the storm never touched you.
It means you kept your fire lit
anyway.

And just like that tower
carved by centuries of weather and war,
I learned to stand—
not untouched,
but unextinguished.

The ocean was the first place I felt safe.
The place I finally remembered
how to breathe.