Poems Of Women's Strength Mga Nobela at Kwento

And the sight was so beautiful that gripped the door tighter, touching the wood and wishing for whatever forces to keep this happiness always on their faces. If I think life was a lot unfair to me, I will be selfish, these two women were innocent and life was not fair to them. Looking at them, I can say a woman is not born strong but they know how to strengthen themselves with time. These women are pure examples of it, people in their lives betrayed, and still, they instead of mopping like me, are fighting their battles with smiles. And maybe because they both went through the same pain, they feel close to each other and I can't be happier knowing that.

Many were getting maimed or slaughtered by older, battle hardy males who were hoarding females. I was never worried about being hoarded by such males. Nobody wanted to square off with Remus. He had even frightened the two friends I had made into staying back. Kita would then speak to me through the woodline, under scrutinizing glare of Remus. Remus had never favored Kita, who was a rogue male. Kita was female crazy and eccentric. Too full of life and not enough of sense, Remus would say.

A man could create a Kingdom but a Woman was the source of food. One of the biggest learning that I got from meeting her was, never ever consider a woman weak. She could be shy, respectful, less talkative, fragile, scared but never a weak one. It's only her shell that keeps her covered and dare not to push her limits and break that shell otherwise she would be CONQUEROR and rule or ruin you to ashes. You could only surrender or be vanished. "Abhi, I love you so much," I smiled as she lied beside me after making the kids asleep.

asked Eliz I nodded in understanding. Eliz sighed and returned to continue her story "I think, as a woman why do we have to be weak ?. In that battle, it was the majority of female victims who were the most. Because women are weak, they can't fight back. We can't just always depend on men, right? So I practice diligently, at least to protect myself," Eliz replied proudly.

This stark reality is not just an aphorism; it’s a profound truth that resonates deeply among us, an unbreakable bond forged through our shared struggles. "You understand, don’t you, young women, which form of strength has proven to be the most effective in navigating these tumultuous times?" she inquired, her eyes glinting with a mix of hope and challenge. "Indeed… we are fully aware," they replied in unison, their voices rich with a somber resonance that perfectly echoed the weight of their circumstances.

The powerful girl, The powerful wolf, The powerful goddess.

Madeline’s POV Strength, I have learned, is not always loud, and it does not always announce itself with blood or gunfire or fear in the eyes of those who underestimate you, because sometimes strength is measured in the way you rise from bed after barely sleeping, in the way you steady your breath when your body aches and your heart is pulled in too many directions at once, and in the way you continue to lead even when the world assumes you are too soft, too maternal, too distracted to remain dangerous.

“I didn’t come here out of my own free will. But I’m not going to stand here and you talk down to me as if I’m nothing.” He chuckled, dark and dismissive. “You don’t mean nothing in this room.” “You think my being a woman makes me less strong?” My voice was firm now. “You believe my gender equates to weakness, my gender removes my intelligence, my strength, my instant?” “I think,” he shot back, “that your pride is going to kill people.”

” A painful sound escaped me before I could stop it. Kaden moved closer to comfort me. I kept reading because if I stopped, I was not sure I would start again. “You come from women who carried power and paid for it. Some hid. Some fought. Some were destroyed because men believed power in a woman must always belong to them or die. If I cannot stay long enough to teach you myself, then learn this first: kindness is not weakness, and fear in a man does not make him right.” My eyes burned. I blinked hard and read the last lines through tears that would not fully fall yet.

Author's note: I put here some poems that I had to read concerning violence against women as well as rapes as well as their authors. These three poems really touched me and it tells exactly the story of Physio and Sophia, sometimes in these poems we glorify the woman sometimes we say that she does not deserve to be abused, so I share it with you before continue the story. STOP The white line of respect for so many feminine existences has been outdated for too long with impunity Every two and a half days what infamy