Who is she? Is she a product? A use-and-throw item? Or just a girl with no worth? Who is she? She is the storm after the calm, The fire burning through the harm. She is the sunrise after the dark, The soul that carries an eternal spark. Who is she? Is she a shadow meant to fade, A fleeting image quickly made? Or a fragile heart, torn apart, Left to mend in a world of darts? She is the song of unspoken pain, The flower blooming after the rain. She is the voice when silence screams, The bearer of shattered yet beautiful dreams. Who is she? Is she a name lost in the crowd, A whisper drowned by voices loud? Or is she the rhythm of her own beat, The roots that ground yet rise to meet? She is the healer of her own scars, The seeker of truth beneath the stars. She is the warrior, the gentle breeze, The maker of worlds, the breaker of seas. Who is she? She is not a product, not a pawn, She is a masterpiece, never withdrawn. She is the phoenix, she is the flame, She is the essence, untamed, unnamed. Who is she? She is you. She is me. She is every soul striving to be free. -@diaryofmotivation_