What will I be without my scars?,
Without my stains,without my pain,
They tell a story of a little girl, Delicate as a flower,grown up in a city full of thorns,
An angel with a bright heart,her eyes full of scorching sparks!
A pretty smile plastered on her little face,her voice saying I will win this game!
She knew life was rigged,she knew it was already fixed!
So she did what was in her fragile hands, she undo the chains with a small jerk of hand,
It broke into tiny pieces of shattered rules, she clapped at the sight of her freedom bloom!
Life assaulted the little lass with all it’s might, with harsh experiences and tainted rights!
She won against all like a warrior out for war!
She wears her scars with magnanimous pride because her scars are a symbol of her being alive!
Everbody is fighting a war,
As a sole surviver trodding down the hell road,
he fights,he dodges,he wins against the Hell Gods,
If you want to know the depth of my problems,stare in my eyes,
As you would see what I have been through and what have I conquered, my eyes never lie!
To assume One is not fighting a war as fierce as yours is a crime,
Cause if you ever be placed in someone else’s shoes, you would return them back to it’s owner and say May God give you strength,
Every one is fighting a battle, every one is on a different level, fighting with different monsters, trying to survive life.
Every man for himself, it’s the survival of the fittest.
My eyes are like the mirror that reflects my inner self but it is also a dungeon for my blood thirsty demons that try to run away and spread havoc.
War for peace! War for a cause!