The most beautiful are the broken humans,
because we learned how to bloom when our lives were completely in ruins.
We still became stars when the sun burned out and every demon in our head filled us with doubt.
Instead of praying, hoping someday the pain would go away,
we created a light and never gave up the fight.
This one is for people who went to sleep contemplating if they want to see tomorrow.
We are the most beautiful because we learned to blossom in the
eternal darkness called sorrow.