ꨄ 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑ꨄ

Stars

Upon the ember skies of a gilded October,
thy sallow complexion bloomed of wilting mallow.
Of tantalising tall tales and ravishing regales,
I've seen no tale of vast vales of thy flaxen scales.
'Thy face fails to fire," said I upon thy faded trails.
Thou stars o'er patches of clover, were merely a loner-
o'er our sorrows of shallow lands, lands aglow with callow.

Of all snowy sights and nostalgic nights,
thou remained o'er lands so shallow and a face so sallow,
trailing were stars' faint trails as thou set thy faded sails
through grey skies, then were thou dimmer than Apollo.
If he be embers aglow, thou be fires hollow.
Yet unmoving were thy blind sight in thy blight nights-
on our sorrows of shallow lands, lands aglow with callow.

Though thee I abhor in the faint skies you soar,
thou remained o'er lands so shallow and a face so sallow
upon the hollow skies o'er the Plutonian sparrow.
Yet thou be not shallow like Spring's blooming mallow-
Hollow of pride yet rich with the Lord's holy hallow,
for thou lore a holding, a hoping, hope as thou soar-
the true Venusian mallow o'er the grounds of callow.
For thy shining soul soared by me merely for e'er more.