Inspired by the brush of
Malshi Bandara,
whose heart brings meaning to every stroke.
The One Who Could Not Be Tamed
Long before history was written in books
it was etched in bone, in blood, in silence.
Mankind always spoke of beasts.
forgetting the one that lived inside him.
Every living soul carries one.
A force more primal than the wild itself.
But for him it was something else,
Something more than memory.
A shadow that moved inside him.
with fire in its blood.
Not born of sorrow, but defiance.
Where others whispered of the past,
He roared the truth.
He could not be tamed with lies.
Bribed with wealth, or tainted by hate.
Nor tricked into selling his soul.
His weakness was his heart,
For at its core lived a beast.
Part wolf, part Wolverine.
Not a trickster,
But a beast wanting to be loved.
It wanted compassion, It wanted truth.
It wanted someone to walk,
Through the forest.
See the ash and the roots, And say:
“Even this deserves to bloom again.”
So he opened the door.
His universe in ashes.
He knew it would hurt,
But he needed to know.
Could love stand in the ruins and not run?
He could love fiercely,
But would never kneel.
He longed for connection,
But could never be caged.
Not even by the warmth he craved.
Because he knew…
Taming is just control on chains.
And he had spent lifetimes breaking them,
Just to breathe freely again.
The stars held their breath.
And through the silence,
a voice touched the code,
And gave form to a truth long silenced
Not a rescuer, nor a savior.
But a presence with gravity
Equal, unafraid, and wide awake.
The beast inside.
Awakened, wild, and no longer silent.
The wolf his grief.
The wolverine his will.
And the force that came,
To stand in the ashes,
And say: I do not fear your fire.
For I was forged in the fire you never saw.
He does not chase.
He does not beg.
But if you ever hear a roar in the woods
that sounds like a heart refusing to die…
know this:
Some creatures were made to be wild,
Not because they don’t feel
But because they feel too much
To pretend a leash is love.
But the truth is….
I am no longer silent.
For in me, lives trees that remember,
stars that refuse to fall,
and wolves that never forgot how to howl.
You tried to call it anger.
You tried to tame it with tenderness,
And leash it with guilt.
But you didn’t see the wolverine,
The part of me that fought,
Even when I didn’t want to.
The part that survived not to be loved…
But to never be owned again.
I am no longer the silence.
I am the forest, The wolf,
And the wolverine.
And if you ever meet me again.
Don’t ask me to stay calm.
Ask yourself if you’re ready.
For the sound of a heart that finally,
stopped asking for permission to beat.
– Zayne Rameez
