To the woman I will become next year,
I pray great things finally happen at its destined moment.
As the rising action of your chapter draws near,
May the epilogue be God's bestowment.
You are the next preceptor of the lineage,
The disguised strain is slowly showing.
A legacy you were born with, like a heritage,
May the prophecy along the way be knowing.
To the woman I am this year,
Your plan A to Z are not for you to clasp;
May you walk in peace and happiness, my dear,
As God prepares a future that your past cannot grasp.