Sunday, July 20, 2008

Scars


Scars are a beauty mark, warrior


each a history holds;


tales for cold nights


when, together we lie, talk


satiated, reminiscing;


of the many times life would have


robbed me of you love-


been incomplete for me.





But crazy gods were merciful;


you still live, and I lie


content, your warmth with me


your breath bathing my face.


How will I not


praise the scars I trace in


the leaping flames of the night


when, spared you were


to lie close to me now?


How can I not my fingertips


on those scars run, that marked but


saved you for me?





©GayUganda 19 Jul 08

2 comments:

Leonard said...

Scars...do they ever fadeaway?

gayuganda said...

No, they dont.

Ever there, that's why we should, take strength from them. Celebrate them, rather than mourn them.

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