In the shadows of her written word,
Sylvia’s voice, a lioness’s roar,
Through the valleys of silence, she stirred,
Breaking chains, forevermore.
Her pen, a sword against the night,
Carving paths through patriarchy’s gaze,
Each verse a beacon of feminine might,
Lighting fires in the darkened maze.
The melancholy in her inked lines,
A tapestry of strength and sorrow,
Weaving tales where hope entwines,
With dreams of a brighter tomorrow.
In every stanza, her spirit prevails,
A testament to battles fought,
Through her words, the future hails,
A world her courage sought.