In the quiet tapestry of night,
Whispers of the past softly call,
With every mark etched in light,
Scars tell stories, never to fall.

Beneath the skin’s gentle embrace,
Lies a tale of battles fought,
Each line a memory, a trace,
Of lessons learned, never bought.

Some are deep, some barely seen,
Yet all are maps of where we’ve been,
Guides to paths both bright and keen,
In the journey of what has been.

Embrace the scars, the silent song,
For they sing of strength, not of wrong,
In their presence, we belong,
To a story brave and strong.