She is made of all that is a myth,
Holding in the fire that inhabits inside,
Some see her as weak,
Some see her as delicate,
She is far away in her own syndicate.
She has a heart so tender,
Yet believes in never to giving She has the beauty, she has the scars,up,
She has the beauty, she has the scars,
The scars to be seen belong purely to her wins,
Scars that reside in her are belong to her everyday fights.
They say she doesn't have patience to deal with the world,
Not even knowing she's been slaying a hell of her cosmos,
She's the calm,
She's the mess
A women that has come out triumphant from hell.