My Tattoos

My skin tells a tale, no shame, no regret/ Ink etched in darkness, paths firmly set/ Each mark a whisper, Occult and profound/ Symbols of magic, where shadows abound/ The inverted cross, a forearm's creed/ A testament to journey, to spirit and need/ Commanding respect, not of gangster lore/ But ancient rites, that my soul explores/ A clean life I walk, sober, legit/ No chains of vice, no shame to admit/ Perhaps I'm one of a few, rare in my kind/ Tattoos of the night, with a disciplined mind/ Celebrity or not, it's not what I claim/ But through the ink flows my spiritual flame/ Proud of my canvas, a map of my quest/ My tattoos are my armor, my silent confess/