In the quiet of the night, they speak,
Whispering tales only shadows know,
Lines etched deep, memories they keep,
Silent witnesses of life’s ebb and flow.

Through storms and calm, they stand,
Bearing stories of battles fought,
They are the echoes of a trembling hand,
Carving lessons experience has taught.

Each scar a map of where we’ve been,
A testament to strength, to pain endured,
In their presence, healing begins,
A reminder that wounds can be cured.

So embrace these marks, these silent words,
For in their silence, truth abides,
They are the voice of the unheard,
Guiding us where resilience resides.