Her eyes are as cold as a freezing avalanche.

As she steers into danger as if she anticipates.

When she holds her gun, it feels as if she caresses it.

Bites her lipstick on a grenade and seduces danger.

She ties her hair back and looks like a beautiful rose.

In the midst of battle

She walks through blasting and raining bullets.

Gracefully, as if she parades on the red carpet.

She has bravery painted all over her face and in her sweet, lovely eyes.

Her voice is melodious.

Till she screams a war cry, then you hear it,

The voice of a true warrior.

A soldier.

Surrounded by men, bigger, taller, and meaner than her.

Yet!

When she walks, they raise their hands at their captain.

She is much braver.

Much crazier. 

Much bolder.

She is a woman.

A woman in battle.