Once, there was an author
Wrote of what he fought for
Exceptional essays of dreams
Wrote away his life, though his stories not what they seem
It’s easy to speak
Even for the weak
But actions define who we are
Not destined to shine, yet he was a star
Slowly fading away into the night
Not a glimmer or spark in sight
Too simple just to take the back seat
Act for your hope, only in discrete
Hollow words strung together, searching for a meaning they won’t find
Weaving an enchanting tale of moving forward, when you’re left behind
Take a step back, look into the shattered mirror
Different perspectives making the image clearer
Each day the same fraud seems to stare back
Serving as a reminder of everything I lack
Fighting because it’s who I am, though I’m still struggling to search for myself
Hidden behind Silence, whose emptiness tells us so much more
Secret stories of our forgotten past, retelling of an internal war
Is the true reason we’re afraid of what hides in the dark
Because we don’t want to see what may be there after all?
As the shadows creep ever closer, forced to let out a call
Silence answers, telling us what we truly are
Will we vanish in the night, or become glowing stars?