Scarlettdrian's Vault

They're vessels, they say, to shape and mold, But their spirits, like clay, are strong and bold. Their essence, like clay, in hands not their own, Molded by norms, in shadows they've grown. Society's chisel, it may leave its mark, But they're warriors, enduring and pure. They'll shatter the molds, break free from the cast, Sculpting their lives, with a future steadfast. No longer vessels, but creators, they stand, Crafting their destinies, both bold and grand. No longer just vessels, they've found their role, Sculpted souls, shaping their very own souls.