Her world domineered,

goddesses buried and forgotten,

But she is an infinite vessel of resilience

Her magic burned in the woods,

her mirror showed a stove back,

But she is forging her own throne.

Her breaths succumbed to the depraved minds,

a noose fastened by patriarchy,

But she is the phoenix who'll again arise.

Her beauty brushed forlornly on the canvas by men,

a condoling portrait hence showcased,

But she is the art herself that emanates strength.

Her dreams crushed by fingers dipped in sin,

a future unborn and choices withheld,

But she holds Life in her hands.

For She is the Sun, the Moon and the brightest Star in the universe.

To the ones who once were,

To the ones who did not get the breath to be

To the ones who are

And to the one who are yet to be

This is for you, a gentle reminder that

you hold the power to shape the world for better.