Her bones creak with the pressure of her life. But the beauty of struggle still resides in her.

She has the power to make oceans out of tears and the strength to move mountains out of her way. The wrinkles on her hands portray wisdom – an endless supply of knowledge.

Her every word echoes, travelling to the farthest lands. Her presence weakens her enemies.

She is within us, deep down, unknown to most. A part of her is rooted in our systems, hidden away till we need her most.

She exacts peace.

She is peace.


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