Life, a tapestry, so vibrant,

Strands of joy woven with sorrows, abundant.

Some are dark like shadows,

And some, soft and bright like meadows.

The needles of fear,

And the yarn of tears.

Together, weaving a path,

Reflecting the aftermath.

Look! She still stands,

Emerging out of the tangled strands.

With the needles of sorrow and distress,

She will weave a new velvet dress.

Her neck, adorned with pearls,

Her lotus eyes, closed yet full of moonlit twirls.

A smile so bright,

Guiding her like a light.

Now, she reclaims the tapestry,

Decorating her with glory.

The fragile borders have been strengthened,

And her spirit awakened.

Struck by stone, now the mirror cracked,
It's beauty, now it lacked.
Not a single belle admired her face,
Nor did the striking adorn his grace.

For now, it was broken,
Lost the praise token.
The outer charm was no longer,
But being forgotten, was the stronger.

Then, lights suddenly shone,
And emerged the grit, unknown.
As the inner strength was intact,
Even the cracked one could reflect.

The belle glowed once more,
And the striking again adorned its core.
The mirror's strength is to reflect,
That no damage could affect.

The outer cracks would be healed,
They are needed for the truth to be revealed.
What is outside, will soon be eliminated,
But inner strength is always celebrated.