"I am like a tulip in the desert. I die before I open. And the desert breeze scatters my petals."—Anonymous Afghan woman

Her perpetual quest to achieve fulfillment through the union of the feminine and masculine in a harmonious whole makes a woman a hostage of her inner male forces that are thirsting for power. She, the subject of internal struggles, who despite herself arouses jealousy and resentment. She, a weapon of war, is attacked and silenced. She, who loses an inner male guardian with each male warrior. Despite her creative power, She is the inner female force who weeps.