Fall Down seven times, stand up eight.

You fall. The ground greets you like an old enemy.

The weight of failure presses into your skin,

whispers in your ear—stay down.

But something inside you stirs.

A breath. A pulse. A refusal.

You rise. Not because it is easy,

not because you are unhurt,

but because you are not finished.

The world will push.

You will push back.

Not with anger,

but with quiet, relentless strength.

Fall seven times.

Stand up eight.

Again. Again. Again.

Until standing is all you know.