How many times
Have I looked above
To the darkened sky overhead-
Illuminated by the presence
Of stars that one day
Will cease to exist?
Do they question their own
Worth and meaning?
Do they feel as time presses
Onward like a baby thrown
Into the rapids,
Swept up and submerged,
Knowing nothing more than
To be afraid?
The stars cast doubt
onto the sky’s darkness,
Shed light Into the the void-
Why is it when I look,
Really stare into the pits
Of my own eyes, I
See the void but not stars?
Have my stars already faded?
Has the smog of man
Plagued me with a boundless
Darkness drinking from the
Void of my own mind-
Poison breeding poison,
The elixir of death rather
Than life.
How often have the days
Blurred? Turned to mush,
Collided with objects foreign
To me and became one.
How often have the stars
Guided me without my knowing?
Do they know they will some
Day die alone? No one to
Mourn or remember them.
I wish to be a star-
Not to be a light nor
Some beautiful being in the sky-
To serve a purpose
Before fading away
In a ball of my own creation-
My own cause of death,
A suicide of passion,
Of love for the life I lived.
One final moment,
Captured by being the
Brightest I ever have, feeling
The passion stronger than
Ever before, before nothing.
I simply vanish and the void
Wraps me in it\'s warmth-
One final time.