she

Text:
She stands, a voice of the many, echoing through the fractures of a divided land,
where shadows linger, and hope waits, patient and unheard.
In her eyes, a promise—of justice, carved from stone,
a hand extended, reaching through the walls we build.

 

She holds the broken threads, weaves them into something new,
a tapestry of faces—every shade, every story, all sewn into one fabric.
She speaks of bridges where others would raise walls,
her words like seeds, scattered to bloom in cities and hearts,
where dreams have been left to wither, where faith clings to dust.

She stands with an open hand, a path for us to find,
Through the fractures and the walls, a light that won't unwind.
A chance to start again, a place where hope can grow,
Together we move forward, and let the new dawn glow.

She moves through the streets of need, the places where hands are empty,
filling them with the weight of care, the warmth of something shared.
In her touch, there is a promise of more—a future not bound by what was,
but open, like a field, ready for the steps we take together.
Her vision stretches beyond borders, beyond oceans,
where the echoes of distant voices call for light.
She listens, and in her gaze, the world sees a return—
to kindness, to a compass that points to unity,
to a moment where allies join hands, where nations breathe again,
the rhythm of cooperation, the pulse of something whole.

A promise unfolds—of a green dawn rising,
where skies clear and the earth remembers its breath,
where the weight of the past is lifted, and the soil feels cool again,
where every step is forward, every heartbeat a call to rise.

She stands with an open hand, a path for us to find,
Through the fractures and the walls, a light that won't unwind.
A chance to start again, a place where hope can grow,
Together we move forward, and let the new dawn glow.

She knows the storm; she has felt its cold hands,
but she stands, unmoved, for she carries the fire,
a light against the shadows, a warmth against the chill,
a guide for the lost, the weary, the waiting.
And she asks—will you walk with me?
Will you take the hand offered, find the path together?
For in this moment, in this fragile dawn, there is a chance,
to build, to mend, to weave the threads anew.

It's a hope rising, a nation waiting,
and her voice, strong and clear, calls us home.
To begin again, to make something whole,
to hold the world with open hands,
and let the light flood in.