Queen of the World

She wears her path like diamonds in her crown,
Each facet a scar, a story renown.
Her head held high, though her heart aches deep,
Tears fall like rivers, through valleys they seep.

They journey to the Grand Summit's peak,
Where sunlight and shadow in silence speak,
And scatter their brilliance across the sky,
A glowing promise that won't fade or die.

Her wounds are battle scars, fierce and raw,
Her bruises, a cloak stitched by nature's law.
Each mark a reminder of fires endured,
A shield forged in storms, her spirit secured.

Her step echoes softly on ancient stone,
A rhythm of courage, unshaken, alone.
Pain melts to armor with every stride,
As she lifts her gaze with unyielding pride.

She bows to the sky, where stars softly gleam,
Hiding the tears no one's allowed to gleam.
Her sword, a relic of truths long concealed,
Awakened with power when her fate's revealed.

Fighting with passion, fierce as the flame,
Her heart beats an anthem, calling her name.
With every season's unrelenting swirl,
She rises, the queen — the queen of the world.