SHE RULES

She is a wolf,
Yet sleeps like beauty in a fairytale.
She could roar like a lion
But laughs like a hyena gone wild.

Her face wears calm like morning dew,
But deep within,
She is fire
Untamed, unshaken, unafraid.

When she rules,
The world shudders.
With just a snap of her fingers,
The broken gets mended,
What were lost returns,
And silence bows before her voice.

For she
She is a god to herself,
No crown needed,
No throne required.

Her attitude?
A riddle wrapped in thunder,
It leaves me wondering
Who is she, really?
And what storms sleep beneath her smile?

Wherever she walks,
She leaves echoes behind,
Stirring the calm,
Shifting the air,
And making even the bold pause.

By night,
She is quiet,
A whisper beneath the stars.
But when the sun rises,
She is warpaint and purpose,
Fearless,
Unapologetic.

I once tried to catch her in weakness,
To watch her stumble
But I was always a moment too late.
She danced away like smoke,
And I,
I gave up chasing shadows.

Now,
I let nature decide,
If justice knows her name.
I wait still
Not for her to fall,
But to understand her rise.