We've been scorched and trialed Scarred beyond recognition Bruised beyond repair But we've shed our skin to become Masters of our own disguises...
Scars line our bodies Intertwining like a mysterious vine Lacing together in jagged harmony Intricate like a hidden beauty within itself..
Some were received from battle More received from the battle within From the depths of the darkness Haunting the forgotten graves Lost in the whispering wind..
Our skin's a masterpiece Covered in red, black, and blue But is it the color of glory Or of shame Of fear Of the silent shadows still living within us...
Are we truly soldiers Or simply ones without a cause Lost in the sounds of chaos For eternity to endure...
Our scars tell our stories But are they the ones being heard Or are our silent screams Lost in the unforgiving wind In the depths of time itself?
Then truly, Do these scars, Our story Mean anything At all ....
At first I didn't understand this poem. Then I realized in the notes RH had written "I don't want to live forgotten". This was written, apparently, back in 2014. Anyway, I realized the soldiers represented everyone in the world who was fighting endlessly just to help leave their marks on this world and had been left forgotten by those who came after them. As a poet/writer we'll forever leave our marks on the world. We may even end up forgotten but our words will find a way to live on, our memory along with them. And someone like Rebel Heart should know its near impossible to forget someone as amazing as herself.... ~BM