In the tapestry of life, where threads fray and tangle, there stands a beacon of strength, unwavering and angle. A survivor, a warrior, with scars etched in grace, My best friend—the hero of her own space. Through tempests and trials, she has weathered the storm, her heart, a lighthouse guiding ships to safe harbor’s form. When darkness threatened to swallow her whole, she emerged, fierce and unyielding, a phoenix with soul. She is the whisper of courage, the echo of fight, the lightning bolt on a clear sunny day, a lifeline when my own strength waned in the night. Her laughter—a melody that dances on air, A symphony of resilience, a testament rare. She wears her scars like constellations, each one a story, of battles fought silently, victories won in glory. Her empathy, a balm for wounds unseen, she is a healer, a confidante, the identity of meaning. And when my illness cast shadows, heavy and gray, she held my hand in my heart, so I could hold on so I could hear her in my dreams as she whispered, “We’ll find a way.” Her love stitched me together, seam by seam, an artist of compassion, a living dream. So, here is to you, my unbreakable friend, In this symphony of life, may our harmonies blend. For you are the sunrise after the darkest night, An amazing woman, a beacon of light