In the whispers of the needle’s dance,
A story unfolds beneath my skin,
Each line a testament to chance,
A tapestry where tales begin.

Colors blend with memories dear,
In vibrant hues, emotions flow,
Each stroke a captured fleeting year,
In artful ink, where secrets grow.

Silent voices in patterns weave,
On canvas flesh, they softly sing,
In symbols bold, our souls believe,
In every mark, our spirits cling.

A legacy of dreams and scars,
In inked embrace, we find our ground,
For in these lines, beneath the stars,
The essence of our lives is found.