Ode to Scars in Moonlight
by Dawg
Moon, surgeon of midnight, reveal the gallery of wounds,
bathed in spectral glow–each scar a relic, a hymn to endurance,
tales of battle written in flesh, stories mapped in pale relief,
markings not of shame, but of thresholds crossed,
survived betrayals, vanished allies, storms endured alone.
The scars–some thin as regret, others thick as memory–
are signatures of a will unwilling to dissolve,
fierce victories over darkness that once threatened to consume,
their gleam under moonlight is the silvered language of resilience,
each one a waypoint guiding through the corridors of midnight.
Wounds do not fade for the timid; they harden for the brave,
a proof that every howl, every loss, every grief
has built a foundation stronger than the world’s derision.
Pale moon, you do not judge the scars;
you illuminate their necessity, make beauty from their pain.
Let every mark be celebrated:
the knotted ones, reminders of fire survived;
the faded lines, ghosts of trials overcome,
for in their convergence lies a map–
a story of courage, loss, and rising once more.
To bear scars is not to be defeated, but to have written
one’s own history in ink that will not wash away.
Let the world read the story–etched in moonlit flesh,
for in every wound, the dawn waits, fierce and undaunted.