She stands there tall

A monument to those before

A beacon on the world's shore

Watching traditions fall

Cracks have begun to form

And a beautiful dress is shorn

Tattered and flapping in the breeze

She is beaten by society's disease

Beaten but still standing

Visibly bruised and beautiful

Resilient against the blows landing

She can see an end a possible lull

A following of people has emerged

Flocking to her cracked and faded feet

Woman braced against the disturbed

She just wants to crawl into her sheets

But the battle is far from won

She knows this deep within

Golden ray's warm weathered cracks