When the world made her doubt her very existence,
When she was tossed and turned over raging emotions,
When they mocked and laughed and oozed hypocrisy,
And it all started from the depths where the pain havoc wrecked.
She now holds fast to her sword she rarely uses,
She no longer bothers to listen to petty verbal bruises,
She flaunts her scars and wears her kindness , the very robe that is tattered and worn,
She wears her crown marking she belongs to her own,
She won’t drown in the seas of thorns,
Cause now she has learnt how to hold the bull by its horns.
And yet she will be humble,
so when again she crumbles,
She will rise above everything that pushed her down,
And even then She will have her halo, cause she will always own her crown.