In shadows deep where ruins weep,
She stood alone, a heart to keep.
With calloused hands and spirit bold,
She dreamt a fort from stories old.
The stones were cracked, the beams decayed,
Yet in her eyes, the vision stayed.
She toiled through nights, her muscles sore,
To breathe life into dreams once more.
Against the odds, she braved the storm,
Her will a fire, her heart a norm.
Each brick she laid, each beam she set,
A testament to no regret.
The base was strong, the walls rose high,
The fort began to touch the sky.
Yet as she worked with hope aglow,
A shadow cast a cruel blow.
They came with words and empty praise,
To steal the work of all her days.
Removed from dreams, her place denied,
She watched as strangers took her pride.
In silent grief, she stepped aside,
The fort stood tall, her silent guide.
Another's name upon its face,
Yet in its stones, her soul, her grace.
She built from ruins, heart unbowed,
Her legacy in every cloud.
For though her hands no longer build,
The fort remains, her spirit filled.
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