STARS There are dead stars, ones that leave their flicker, as dull beacon for the Earth’s hopeless. And stars you wished they are dead, lights nipped, because of the folly of falling for them. Both stars are just there, these dregs of light straining to kiss earth, or pinned to a matte-black ceiling of heaven, calling for young stargazers. This star, dead as well, you will still find in your scopes, eastward, you may be looking. Bound to this star, eagerly you dream of dusk. RAC 6.3.14 ALL RIGHTS REVERSED
Posted on: Tue, 03 Jun 2014 03:14:54 +0000
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