She's the type of flower, strong and bold,
That blooms through the ashes, through the cold.
Even after a forest fire, fierce and bright,
She rises again, reaching for the light.
Through the smoke, through the heat, through the pain,
She finds her roots, and starts to gain.
With petals that shimmer, and fragrance so pure,
She stands resilient, of that, be sure.
No storm can break her, no fire can defeat,
She's the strength in silence, the victory in defeat.
From the chaos, she learns and grows,
A symbol of hope, as life once again flows.
She's the type of flower that blooms in the rain,
With courage and grace, she conquers the pain.
A reminder to all that after the strife,
There’s always a chance for a beautiful life.
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