As she dusted off her weakened knees, ripping shards of ****** glass from her feet. Scraping and ripping off the lies and deceit. Never cowering or giving into defeat. Treated as a peasant, but born to be seen. A weak person's worst nightmare, but a destined strong person's dream. She was full of strength, but pulled and hidden from her light. But the darkness couldn't shake away where she was most bright. She roared like a lioness, breaking out of her cage, using her pain and using her rage. Using her power that fit like a glove. But soft and so graceful, as sweet as a dove. She ran from the violence and skipped through the mud. No longer swallowing the hand fed fake love. She ripped off the chains and the tape from her mouth. She broke all the shackles, and she busted out. She healed all her wounds, and broken bones on her own, she built her own castle, she crafted her throne. She rose from the ashes, a crown upon her head. Saving her soul from its pre made death bed. She took back her freedom and fought for her life. She gave her heart rest and in turn a new sight. She'd chose herself, and she chose what was right. She protected her soul and she saved her own life. She had no idea but to the world they see... a leader, a survivor, a warrior, a queen.