💫Idiosyncratic💫

In a world brushed gray with haste and noise,

She rises—bold, composed, and poised.

A flame in crimson, calmly bright,

Her gaze, a mirror of quiet might.

Coils of gold and onyx thread,

Crown her thoughts, the dreams she’s fed.

Frames like wings, her glasses wide,

Hold galaxies behind each eye.

She does not shout to claim her place,

The power rests within her grace.

With lips of wine and steady fire,

She speaks in tones that hearts admire.

Each lock, each fold, a tale untold,

Of wisdom earned and courage bold.

She is not here to be defined—