Strength in her
They say strength is muscle, a battle of might,
But true power shines in the darkest of nights.
A woman’s strength isn’t just what you see—
It’s the weight of the world carried gracefully.
God made us warriors, built to endure,
To bring forth life and love that is pure.
We bend, but don’t break; we stumble, not fall,
And when others grow weary, we answer the call.
But among us stands one, steadfast and true,
A woman of iron, a heart bold as blue.
She’s my rock, my shelter, my guiding light,
My counselor, my anchor, my warmth in the night.
She’s patched up the broken, stitched up the torn,
Not just on battlefields where heroes are born.
A medic in war, she’s fought through the fire,
Saved lives with her hands, never once did she tire.
She’s marched through the chaos, the dust, and the pain,
Then came home and did it all over again.
Raising her children, working with grace,
Holding the world in a soft, steady place.
If I need a shoulder, she’s already there,
If I need a sofa, she’s pulling up a chair.
An ear to listen, a hand to hold,
A love that’s fierce, a heart pure gold.
She’s fought in the trenches, in war and in life,
A soldier, a mother, a warrior, a wife.
And still, she stands, unshaken, unbowed,
A testament strong, fearless, and proud.
So when they say women are weak, let them see,
What true strength and power were destined to be.
For she is my hero, my sister, my friend,
A force that no battle could ever bend.
