Beneath this stone, a soul now rests,
A life once filled with endless quests.
To find the self, a journey true,
Through art and ink, a path anew.
This body, a canvas for the mind,
Etched with symbols, a story defined.
Tattoos, a testament to the heart,
Expressing truths, never to part.
In youth, a search for identity,
Grasping for answers, a fragility.
But through the brush, the pen, the needle's touch,
A self emerged, no longer in such.
The artist's hand, a guiding light,
Unlocking doors to inner sight.
Colors and lines, a language divine,
Revealing the depths of this soul's design.
Tattoos, a tapestry of life's tale,
Scars and triumphs, never too pale.
A map of experiences, a road well trod,
Etched upon flesh, a testament to the divine.
In this final resting place, a life well-lived,
A journey of self-discovery, freely given.
Through art and ink, a legacy left behind,
A testament to the power of the human mind.
May all who pass by this humble grave,
Be inspired by the life that here did crave.
To find their own path, their own true self,
And let their story be told, not left on a shelf.
For, in the end, it is not the years that matter,
But the mark we leave, the lives we shatter.
This soul, now at peace, has found its way,
A life well-lived, a masterpiece displayed.
