She is the stride of the tiger, untamed and awake,
The soft, silver silence the moon leaves in its wake.
Her passion runs deep as the uncharted sea
With the fierce, quiet grace of a warrior to be.

She shatters the darkness like sparks in the night,
With a love that cuts sharp, casting shadows to flight.
She carries the warmth of the sun in her eyes,
And holds all the thunder of rolling, wild skies.

With a soul made of embers that refuse to expire,
She walks through the world as a river of fire.
Through the ages of silence, the shadows, the art
She is the universe, beating its heart.