I walk between crooked trees that creak,
Their twisted tongues in hush tones speak.
I am the cold that bites the skin,
The scent of pine where dreams begin.

I am the autumn’s copper fire,
The dusk that hums in lost desire.
I am defiance, raw and bright,
The voice that splits the tomb of night.

With reverent hands, I bless the shrine,
A scholar’s mind, a soul divine.
By day I learn, by night I weave,
The spells the ancient stars believe.

I am courage, the fire untamed,
A howl in the dark, unbound, unnamed.
I am the rage that rises tall,
A voice that shatters the iron wall.

I mend the wounds that still remain,
For women’s scars that call my name.
A gift, a miracle, fierce yet free,
A storm that sings in endless sea.

I am the girl who danced in awe,
And the woman with eyes that saw.
I am thorn that shields the sacred rose,
The claws and teeth where fate arose.

I am the oath sworn in blood to the blade,
A pact in crimson, never to fade.
I am the ancient storm untamed,
An arcane sentinel, a chaos unchained.

I am the tempest, wild and free,
The love that burns, the rage in me.
Dragon’s soul and siren’s call,
The jest, the truth, the rise, the fall.