In the arms of nature's green embrace,
She stands—a silhouette of grace.
The wind whispers secrets through the trees,
A call to her spirit: rise, be free.
Upon her back, the phoenix gleams,
A symbol of courage, of shattered dreams.
From ashes, she will rise anew,
Her strength the fire, her heart the dew.
The earth hums beneath her feet,
A melody of life—profound, complete.
Every blade of grass, every petal's hue,
Reflects a truth ancient yet true.
Freedom is not a gift to receive,
But a path to carve, a truth to believe.
To shed the chains of fear and doubt,
And let the soul's light shine out.
Through storms and shadows, she will soar,
A phoenix eternal, forevermore.
Her wings are dreams, her fire divine,
In her, the cosmos and nature entwine.
Her journey is ours, her call the same,
To rise, to live, to rekindle the flame.
In the dance of life, the rhythm is clear,
Freedom's voice is all we hear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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