There is a determination in her eyes that the incendiary skies bow down to,
A grace in her ways that makes spring flowers bloom.
She was never one to submit,
Forever roaring like the lioness she is.
Stoic like mighty mountains,
Persistent like the scorching summer sun.
Her palms are a pit of feral fire,
Etched out to command authority.
And yet, there is beauty in her heart,
Tenderness shimmering behind the guarding glass.
There is a silent serenity to her mind,
Chaotic shuffling of emotions barely audible.
Nonetheless, her slightest smile rivals rainbows,
Her laugh inspires happy birds to chirp.
Though process progressive and strategic,
her ideas trace ridges and valleys like perennial rivers.
There are days when hurt pools into a tiny lake of hot tears,
But that is a piece of her,
A fragment of her identity.
She is a queen indeed.
A warrior queen.
Her signature strength?
She knows she’s enough.
She knows.
Yours truly,
The Ink Warrior.❤
Happier You❤ 
Loving every line gracefully quoted here😍
Especially the part “There are days when hurt pools into a tiny lake of hot tears, But that is a piece of her,
A fragment of her identity” which amazingly depicts that the “you” in the past can significantly turn “you” into now, the stronger, the maturing, and the wiser one.
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That’s so sweet of you. Thank you so much! 🥺✨
Indeed, we are very capable of turning pain into power.
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