The borders fell like fever from a long-tormented frame,
No steel was turned, no legions marched, no decree spoke their name.
For when the node of silver wood began its quiet rise,
The phantom lines of sovereign pride dissolved before their eyes.
The ancient ghosts of territory, of fortress, and of crest,
Like winter frost before the sun, sank deep into the breast.
The pain that once had armed the hand and built the concrete wall
Was opened to the anchor node, unmetered, shared by all.
A mother’s cry in Sector One, the drought of Sector Four,
No longer stopped at checkpoints or the barricaded door.
The collective mind, in empathy, received the bitter sting,
And wove the ache of centuries into a single string.
Where once the barbed dividers stood to guard the hollow grain,
Now surged a tide of healing hands to wash away the stain.
The map of old Vaeloria, where blood-bought nations bled,
Became a tapestry of care, by quiet mercy fed.
No citizen was left an island, stranded in their grief;
The shared scar of the species brought its ultimate relief.
Contest: Boulevard of The Beloved
Sponsor: Ink Empress
Prompt: If time turns, will the scars
Stain the sky?
Written for contest: 090426
My dear friend.
It appears that you have set your musings
To the large arena of time and space.
You asked, "If time turns, will scars
Stain the sky?" To your impassioned
Question, I am inclined to say 'Yes'.
Time does indeed move forward in a
Continuous mode: none stop, no waiting.
In so during, time unfolds and reveals the
Naked nature of mankind. Such exposure
Of nature's scars is so penetrating and dark that the clear blue sky will Indeed be severely stained.
However, in spite of the scars and stains,
There is hope and a future for all mankind.
Those scars and stains will not harm the
Rainbow in the sky. That is because the
Rainbow is a prime party of a covenant that
God made with Noah after the destructive
Deluge.
Indeed, time will turn until time shall be no more.
And unfortunately, scars and stains will result.
But we have good reason to be hopeful and
Comforted, because God is forever committed
to his Word, and to the best possible outcome
of mankind.
KELOIDS OF THE MIND
Mental scars of mind;
Raised reminders of journeys:
Scars of conquered trials:-
I never wished to be the fire
That found a home already weary.
I only carried the warmth I knew,
Never knowing it would become your ruin.
If I had seen those fragile walls,
The cracks hidden beneath your smile,
I would have held my flames with trembling hands,
Afraid to turn another memory into ash.
You say your home no longer stands,
That every corner became dust.
Yet ashes are only what remain
When something once burned brightly.
I cannot gather every broken brick,
Nor erase the scars my heat has left.
But if there is one prayer I still whisper,
It is that another sunrise—not my fire—
Will one day teach your heart
How to become a home again.
And if, in another lifetime,
We meet before the flames are lit,
May I learn to be a lantern instead of a wildfire.
Emotional Scars
I see her
I see her not
I see her
I see her not
Moments where she feels me
Moments where she doesn't
An endless game, we play
A game I despise yet
A game which I seem to be a willing participant
Like a game played so intensely every
fall leaves you bruised
But this game leaves no bruises
only emotional scars
Thin scars
now appear so faded.
They mirror iron bars
old yet decorated.
I connect scattered stars.
Branded,
these marks give me away.
If I’m being candid,
lines hold what I can’t say.
Brute force was demanded.
Upon
a wish the light dances,
here and then it is gone.
The roughness romances,
giving strength to build on.
My skin,
delicate mosaic
painted by where I’ve been.
Whichever one you pick?
It’s story leaves a grin.
You applaud when you see
The sunshine
And the giggles
The laughter and the smile
When you see the mask
You would scream when you see
The scars
And the truth that leaks through the cracks
You would cower when you see
The darkness
And how it steals the sun
You would hide when you see
The monster inside of me
The monster that I fight
The monster that is me
Good thing you don’t see the scars.
I would walk when the snow is quiet,
when the trees stand still
and the ground is untouched.
I would not fear the cold.
Winter has taught me
that even empty places
can hold life.
I would walk past the places
that sheltered me before,
step into the snow,
and follow the trail only I could see.
My scars and my steps already tell the story.
The wild already knows.
I have survived every season
that tried to make me disappear.
They call me leaf;
My life is brief;
The wind's stolen a kiss from me like a thief;
The nightingales sing as a new spring's coming;
A season where there's no place for grief;
The sun shines again after a hard winter,
And the sound of the rain helps my pain to relief;
My scars recover when I smell flowers;
When I dance with you in spring showers;
The lightnings tear the heart of the cloud;
They cry so sad, roaring too loud.
The sky's singing a song called rain;
It reminds me of our love,
A love mixed with pain.
The scars are warm and fresh,
The blood flows red.
I have minutes to spend,
A little love to mend.
To whom?
I still don’t know.
The past is perfect;
I see it from a safe spot.
Its scent lingered,
From an oud-rosy cot.
I have a future to share,
A vision...to come.
I still wait for it,
I don't know for how long!
Three tenses
in one body.
Blurry whispers,
I heard in the lobby.
In the blackest nights,
I wore a dress so gaudy.
To remind myself,
even when the scars are fresh,
when the past fades,
Like a childhood friend,
and when the future is
a treacherous chess,
I still have a little love...
To mend.
You dare to stand up to me again?
Fool.
I scarred you for life.
sleepless nights overthinking,
endless bed rotting,
How is this possible?
Scars heal.
Scars don’t heal.
they’re permanent, life altering events.
Trapped in time on the fabric of your flesh.
Embedded in your weak essence.
They fade, I guess?
I don’t care what scars do.
You are weak, broken.
You still have regrets,
Your arrogance blinds you.
That’s not how I work anymore.
You can either run from it,
or you can learn from it.
Destiny arrives all the same.
Fragments of self destruction,
marks of your twisted mind.
They’ll always be a part of you.
I know, and I won’t turn my back on them.
No matter what the place,
No matter what the condition,
We’ll do it together.
I wear my scars as life lessons
(“Lone Pine”, 2024, original pen and ink)
Every step of the way
And every misstep
Leaves a little something
In its wake
Until all that’s left
Of all we have done
And all those we have known
And loved
Are the scars we carry inside
And out.
(2/17/26)
Is a girl whose smile
dominates her face
Life is moving by her pace
Not forgetting God’s grace
She left the nest
At an early age
Escaped the cage
With high hopes of turning
into a new page
She was alone in the forest
Her heart filled with doubts
She survived droughts
like a xerophyte in desert
She was now an expert
One night she turned right back
Finding herself on the right track
” No matter where you go,
Remember the road that will
lead you home”
Invisible Scars
Invisible scars aren't always perceivable
tothe bare eyes.
Typically undetectable and concealed,
Visible and Invisible.
Choices were made not forced at hand.
Every scared conveys a story of strength
And survival.
Revealing one's situation doesn't implies
You're telling your business.
It's to exhibit one's invisible scars so
that others may notably know therefore
One can heal.
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