Blessed are those that live in light.
With all color and no shame.
Children of summer.
That have returned to perfection
and dream, despite the overwhelming odds of reason.
Seeking endless chance within the hand of Life.
Blessed are your battle scars
born so proudly on your soul.
So beautiful. So real.
That i can do no more than weep.
Weep for your glorious wounded body
worn on the honored bravery of your soul.