Beneath the moonlight’s gentle gaze,
My scars tell tales of yesteryears,
Each line a whisper of forgotten days,
Painted with a brush of silent tears.
Some are shadows of battles fought,
Of wars within and struggles without,
Others, reminders of lessons taught,
By life’s unyielding, relentless bout.
They weave a tapestry of pain and grace,
A map of where I’ve been and gone,
Emblems of a life I can’t erase,
Markers of a journey, still pressing on.
Through every scar, a story is told,
Not of defeat, but of resilience bold,
For in each line, a strength unfolds,
A testament of a spirit uncontrolled.