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In the garden of existence, women bloom, A tapestry of strength, a celestial loom. They're the constellations in the midnight sky, Each one a story, soaring high. A river flowing with tenacity, Carving canyons of audacity. They're the sun's embrace in morning's kiss, Igniting worlds with an ethereal bliss. Like ancient trees with roots so deep, They weather storms, their secrets keep. In the symphony of life, they are the song, A melody resilient, graceful, and strong. The moonlight whispers in their gaze, A cosmic dance that time portrays. They're the architects of dreams untold, Crafting futures from stories of old. With hearts that beat like thunderous drums, T hey echo through the valleys, the mountains, and slums. In the dance of fire, in passion's embrace, Women are the phoenix, rising with grace. They're the phoenix, the wildfire's embrace, A kaleidoscope of colors, an infinite space. With every step, they shape the Earth, Midwives of creation, each a rebirth. In the silence, a voice profound, A symphony in every breath, in every sound. They're the alchemists of pain and strife, Transforming darkness into vibrant life. So, behold the power in every sway, In the night, in the dawn of day. For in the tapestry of time, they weave, The power of women, in whom worlds believe.
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