In the quiet of the night she stands,
A fortress built on dreams and sands,
Through storms that rend and winds that howl,
She holds her ground, with grace so foul.

Her strength is not in muscle’s might,
But in her heart, a beacon bright,
The battles fought, the tears unseen,
Each scar a tale of where she’s been.

Through days of toil and nights of pain,
She rises up, to strive again,
With every fall, she learns to soar,
Her soul a sea of endless lore.

A woman’s strength is deep and vast,
A legacy that’s built to last,
In every breath, a story spun,
The strength of woman, second to none.