Through tempest winds and torrid rain,
She stood with courage, & masked her pain,
Each storm and trials, Each step a test,
Yet within her heart, she found her rest.
Through the winds that howled and the skies that wept,
She held her ground, and no tears she kept,
Her strength like steel, her will unbent,
Through every storm, her soul was sent.
The world could see her beauty clear,
Yet in her eyes, there’s a deeper sphere,
Where sorrow mixed with hope’s bright spark,
A canvas painted in the dark.
She wore her scars like precious threads,
A tapestry of paths that she had to tread,
With every mark, there’s a story to be told,
Of battles fought, of courage bold.
No tempest so wild could quench my fire,
Each wave that crashed, I climbed up higher,
And from the ruins, I arose,
From thorny prose, to a blooming rose
No storm could break me, or bend my will,
I faced them all with quiet thrill,
And from the chaos, I grew calm,
A strength that only few can know.
Now in the quiet after the rain,
I hear the laughter, as a sweet refrain,
Because through the storms, I found my way,
The scars I wore were like a map on a display
The paths I took, and the prices I’ve paid,
Yet I tell myself as the beauty bloomed in every scar,
It is A testament of who you are.
Now she stands in the Suns warm and gentle light,
For in her journey, You will behold,
A story rare,
a tale retold,
Of how beauty was born from endless strife,
And became a woman strong, embracing life.