I'm bigger than a hurricane rushing past,
I'm stronger than the ivy that takes root and holds on tight.

I'm the girl your mother wishes you'd bring home.

Do not reduce me to ashes,
Do not reduce me to dust.

I arise in a sea of tears, salty from the sorrows that drip down like whispers.

Strength is a virtue that little recognize as a force to be reckoned with.

But you will see me rise,
You will see me burrow.
You will see me grow and shrink,
You will see me stand my ground.

Always, with my back turned, to a beating sun that never wanted me.