"Unseen Scars, Unheard Roars" (my journey about Breaking Free from Shadows)

Introduction :

“Unseen Scars, Unheard Roars” is a raw, defiant poem about reclaiming identity after years of silent pain. It tells the story of breaking free from the shadows of the past and choosing a new name to honor strength, not suffering. This is a roar of self-respect, resilience, and the courage to become who you were always meant to be.

        "Unseen Scars, Unheard Roars"

(my journey about Breaking Free from Shadows)

In the late 90s, I was named like every child is named,

But maybe my name was more — not just a name.

Shahzad, of Persian roots, meant something more,

Shah — a king, Zad — his son, a prince to the core.

But I’m no prince, don’t let the name fool you,

Because what I’ve lived through, no royalty ever knew.

To most, pain is just a four-letter word,

To me, it’s my whole life — every scream unheard.

Twenty-six years, and I’ve seen it all,

Pain on repeat, like a never-ending fall.

That’s why I wanted to change what they call me,

Not to forget, but to set my spirit free.

I chose Ibrahim, something new, something right,

A name that doesn’t carry the weight of endless night.

Still, 90% call me Shahzad, it sticks like glue,

But I tell them, call me Ibrahim — it feels more true.

Because Shahzad reminds me of the pain I want gone,

Of the battles I fought when no one saw me hold on.

I want to laugh with eyes open wide,

Not panic, not flinch, not run, not hide.

Whenever I was hurt, I would cry like a normal child,

Talking about my problems, nothing too wild.

But everyone’d just say, “We don’t get you,”

And now I know — they never wanted to.

Over the years, I changed, became someone new,

A maniac with no fear, nothing I wouldn’t do.

I started calling myself a lion in lines,

Let me tell you why — it’s not just to rhyme.

A lion would rather die than beg for his meal,

Just like me, I don’t bend, I don’t kneel.

I’ll get what I want or I’ll die on the way,

I won’t ask, I won’t plead, I don’t care what they say.

Even if the lion is locked in a cage,

He’s still a lion — still filled with rage.

He’s not afraid of the man with the key,

He’s just waiting for the moment to break free.

But me? I won’t wait for the right time to come,

I’ll flip the script, I’ll beat my own drum.

I’ll turn the worst times into something bright,

Make the bad days bow to my fight.

To anyone out there who feels the same,

Who hides their fire, who dims their flame —

If you keep living in the dark and hiding your face,

You’ll never leave behind even a trace.

You’ll never have a shadow if you stay in the shade,

You were made for the light — not to fade.

A lion is meant to be heard, meant to be seen,

Not hiding behind what could’ve been.

So step out, roar loud, let the world hear your name,

Let them feel your heat, let them know your flame.

Just like now, Shahzad is the crown I wear of pain,

But for those I hold close, I wanna answer as Ibrahim.

             

                  —Shahzad sulaiman

My message in clear words : 

                            In the late 90s, I was named like every baby is named. But maybe mine wasn’t just a name; it was a title. Wanna know what that is? Yeah, Shahzad. Let’s see why it’s more a title than just a name. You see, Shahzad is of Persian origin. And no, I’m not Persian. But anyway, Shah means king and Zad means son of, so Shahzad means son of a king, or simply, a prince. Yeah, I know it’s a good name.

But here’s the problem—I’m not a prince. Wondering why I’m saying that? Because what I’ve been through in my whole 26 years, trust me, no prince has gone through that much. I’ve seen it all. To most of the world, pain is just a short word with four letters, but for me, the word pain defines my entire life on this planet. That’s why I wanted my friends to call me something different—something new and better. So, I chose the name Ibrahim for my friends to call me.

You know, even now, 90% of people still call me Shahzad. And when someone asks about my name, I still tell them it’s Shahzad, but I also tell them it would feel better if they called me Ibrahim. Why? Because for me, the name Shahzad carries a lot of pain—a pain I want to forget, not remember. I want to be a new and better version of myself. I want to stay calm and laugh with my eyes wide open instead of panicking. Over time, I have transformed into what I’ve always wanted—a maniac with no fear.

You might have noticed I also call myself a lion in my poems. Wondering why? Simple. Because I see a lot of similarities between myself and a lion. Let me tell you some of them:

A lion would rather die of hunger than lower his expectations for food. And I would rather die than listen to anyone’s opinion. Just like a solo lion prefers to hunt on his own, I would get what I want by myself—or die trying—rather than begging for it.

Another one is this: even if a lion is in a circus or captivity, he’s still a lion. He is not afraid of his circus owner or captor. He’s just waiting for the right time. And just like the lion, no matter how bad my time gets, I will not feel fear. I will still rise. But the difference is, I won’t wait for the right time—I will make the bad time right for me.

So, my advice to everyone like me is this: if we keep living and hiding in the shadows, we will never have a shadow of ourselves. You know what I mean? So stop hiding in the dark. Stop living in the shadows. Come out into the light so you can have a shadow of your own self. Don’t hide, because a lion is supposed to let the world feel his presence. Come out, roar like a lion, and live like a lion.

Disclaimer

This poem, “Unseen Scars, Unheard Roars,” is a deeply personal reflection on my journey through pain, identity, and self-transformation. It shares the struggles I’ve faced, the strength I’ve built, and the message of rising above darkness. The lion is used as a symbol of courage and resilience, not aggression or harm. This piece is meant to inspire those who feel unheard or unseen — to help them find their voice and strength.

This content is a form of creative self-expression and is not intended to offend, harm, or target any person, culture, group, or belief. It is shared with the hope of encouraging healing, growth, and empowerment through honest storytelling.

NOTE: These poems are personal expressions, drawn from real emotions, life experiences, and heartfelt dreams. You are welcome to read and reflect, but copying, downloading, or using them as your own is not allowed. If you wish to share a poem or use a part of it in your artwork, post, or project, please give proper credit to the original author: Shahzad Sulaiman (Sultan of Hearts) Thank you for respecting the creative effort and honesty behind each word.