Child Bride, Iron Will: An Anthem
Born under skies the color of hope,
A child of fourteen, robbed of life's scope.
Stolen innocence, a future unplanned,
Married in haste, a hand in another's hand.
Lata, her name, a whisper in the breeze,
Dreams caged in silence, beneath rustling leaves.
Confined to a life, a role preordained,
Yearning for knowledge, a fire unchained.
Days blurred by duties, a monotonous song,
But Lata's spirit, it refused to belong.
In stolen moments, by the flickering lamp,
She'd steal a book, a forbidden map.
Words became weapons, knowledge her shield,
She devoured stories, a world unrevealed.
The rustle of pages, a symphony sweet,
A rebellion brewing, in her silent retreat.
Nights spent studying, defying the norm,
Fueled by a hunger, a burning reform.
Against whispers and doubts, a society's scorn,
Lata, the child bride, a purpose reborn.
Years crawled by, a relentless tide,
But Lata's resolve, it wouldn't subside.
Exams were conquered, a victory won,
The shackles of tradition, finally undone.
Government halls, once distant and grand,
Now echoed with her steps, a woman to stand.
An officer, a voice, a symbol so bright,
From child bride to leader, bathed in righteous light.
Her story, a wildfire, on the wind it flew,
Inspiring others, a path breaking through.
Girls with dreams, fettered by chains,
Now saw Lata's triumph, washing away the stains.
Though scars remained, a whisper of the past,
Lata, the phoenix, her spirit cast.
A testament to will, a beacon so bold,
For education's power, worth more than gold.
She stood tall, a champion unyielding,
A testament to dreams, forever wielding.
A child bride no more, but a force to behold,
Lata, the officer, her story untold.
