Lone wolves are the essence
Of warrior marks
Tatted in riddles with signatures and line imprints that age scars
It's sealed, with no cut or graze
neither of which can penetrate through
It's been protected
Created through burns and of black smoke
White washed heartaches
Living in a slideshow of paintings
Celebrations and chants
mistaken for a melody in a senerade
A confetti
A pretty painted canvas
With emotions of coloured paint
Splashes of ornaments
green hues
Bursts into kaleidoscopes
Strips of flower prints
Of a thousand splendid curses
Blinding to an eye
It leaves no traces of fear
But a mind in the magnificence
It leaves no traces of tear
But sealed inside hard rock skin
To protect the marks of the warrior

SYA