Through the fire she goes.
Through the ice she goes
She walks, she runs
Chasing a dream to spun.

She is called mundane.
She is repressed often
Yet she stands strong
Straight; fights long

To humanity, she bows
To God, she vows
Her goal--the horizon
Her faith--the stardom

Inch by inch, she piles
To the world, she ties
The glimmer of hope
For a future upforth.

She prays, she blesses.
She shows kindness.
A light to the world
Sending a fight worth
To be put in words.

— Urja Ghosh
(BookLoverVenue)