There lives a woman who owns the beauty of a thousand sunsets

She is the oldest woman alive, but her looks are still to die for 

She gives birth to magic & enchanting creatures 

Her body is strong with a tough inner core

You can hear the quiet and scream of her soul as it hits the shore 

She is calm & violent all at once 

She can breathe fire & create erratic fronts 

Her majesty is never-ending

From the pure white sands to the heart of the rainforest 

From the fierceness of a lion

To the gentleness of two people falling in love 

She brings endless gifts from up above

But she also brings terror and fear

In her hands, many of the living shed a turbulent tear

How will she act tomorrow or even in a few years?

No one can say for sure

But into her lungs the carbon dioxide continues to pour 

How long can she hold on to her kingdom?

Before she can’t repair it anymore . . . 

& before her magic can only be found as waste at the bottom

of a dead ocean floor?