The Rose Beyond the Crown

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She walked not just in palaces, but in pain,
Where silence wept and sorrow had no name.
Through hospital halls and war-torn lands,
She reached out with ungloved hands.

A princess, yes — but more than gold,
She bore the stories no one told.
With eyes that saw beyond the throne,
She held the hurting as her own.

Among the lepers, AIDS wards dim,
She kissed the outcast, stood with them.
She broke the walls of fear and pride,
With simple grace, she knelt beside.

In landmines’ path, she walked ahead,
For those who lost, for those now dead.
She dared the world to feel, to see,
The cost of war, the price of peace.

She spoke in silence, smiled through storm,
A rebel heart in royal form.
Not bound by crown, but freed by love,
A dove below, a voice above.

Gone too soon, but never truly far,
She lives in every beating star—
Where kindness walks with quiet grace,
There blooms Diana’s sacred trace.

So let not time her truth erase,
Let every heart her steps retrace.
For in this world of fleeting fame,
She left behind an eternal flame.So let not time her truth erase,
Let every heart her steps retrace.
For in kind eyes and hands that heal,
Her spirit rises, strong and real.

New Dianas yet shall walk this earth,
With love unchained and quiet worth.
Where war divides, they’ll plant a rose,
Where sorrow dwells, they will come close.

They’ll lift the weak, defend the small,
Speak truth with courage, stand for all.
And in their light, we’ll clearly see—
The world she dreamed is yet to be.


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