She is the storm, the wind’s wild cry,
The endless waves beneath the sky,
A force, untamed, that knows no end,
A spirit, fierce, that will not bend.

Her strength is woven through the night,
A quiet power, pure and bright,
In her, the world finds its spark,
A light that shines within the dark.

She carries wisdom, born of time,
A rhythm in a sacred rhyme,
With every step, the earth feels hers,
She speaks, and all the world concurs.

She rises tall, and stands her ground,
In silence, strength in every sound,
She builds with grace, she breaks the chains,
She wears the crown, despite the pain.

For in her heart, a fire grows,
The depth of life in endless flows,
She is the pulse, the beat, the hour,
She is the boundless force of power.

No storm, no battle, no long fall,
Can shake the essence of her call—
For woman is both soft and fierce,
And in her hands, the world will pierce.