She marches towards a tomorrow unknown
She lost her years, her marrow and bone
She loves yet suffers through lives she gave
Still gazing at a sea of indifferent waves
Bottled up emotions, discarded thoughts
She gave away everything without any doubts
With passing years, her seasons would fade
Trudging hot sands without any shade
Brought up lives inside hollow rooms
She safeguarded them when shadows would loom
But all her hands caught was only distress
Of love and respect of which she got less
Stones thrown her way did not cause harm
As much as a thorn her society would charm
Still undeterred and faithful to her name
She spoke with patience and not her fame
Struggling to get through an army of men
She perched undaunted, amassing strength of ten
She knew each corner, crevice and altar
Where danger would lurk but she did not falter
What manner or magic made her so bold?
Her stories don’t divulge this mystery untold
Although lost, forgotten, maimed, inhumaned
She did not cease to live or to be a woman.
