In all her might
She defied them
Or rather, passively
Reconciled
To their Glory
She entwined them,
The messages of stars.
Underneath them
She was immoral but
Immortal she was not.
Bequeath unto them
Times of passage
Of the stories
She forgot.
But she had lived
A thousand lives
And died a thousand times
Yet on the quest she
Found the eyes
To which the sky
Was blind.
Starlight may be
Oppressive
And romanticize our hearts
And distort our naive
Placid vision
But saves us
In the dark.
YOU ARE READING
Stardust
PoetryIt's a well known fact we all descend from stardust. What's to stop us from going back? {because I'm in love with the sky}
