Lucky Scars

Blemished skin,
Once pure, untainted,
In our days of sweet innocence,
Now branded by a feckless sword.
Onus falls without avowal,
To faceless antagonists.

Emerald hued skin,
Imperfect by my foe's truculence
Weaves stories,
Of bravery.
Of terror.
Of recklessness.
Yet greatly... of luck.
Ne'er of loss.

Etched over skin,
A tapestry of life,
Complex and illusive to the outlander.
To me,
Sacred tales, of blessed luck,
Fortuitously ne'er to be healed.


Another VERY early morning 'Shakespeare' (as I like to call them!) poem, written at 00:32, then completely edited at 00:38. See how I suffer for my art?! :D Reviews would be greatly appreciated, I know whatever advice you give me will help on my way to be a better writer. Thank you.

PS. If you don't understand vocab, feel free to ask! :)