Epistles for my thorned metaphors

living shooting star

i come passing by the earth
and then people starts
to chant their wishes.
wishing their sadness
would go away.
wishing their journey
would turn good.
wanting that person
to love them back.
some are wishing
for richer.

and i am a shooting star,
i shatter, i split
tormented
as i fall.
i do not wish to be
a shooting star.
even how captivating i
am in sight,
even i shine
i still do not want
to fall.

all i wanted is to soar high.