Under A Dusk Sky

THE VOID

•FLUKE OF DEATH•

I was just sleeping, barely dreaming of a transient bliss
Wishing of that one something—wishing for my only death,
That it would go and abduct the only soul that I have—
Thought about a kiss of death, but not one kiss of a breath
Would divulge reality of a death that disdain me;

Of a death avoiding me, merely it desire for me,
Though I wish to give to it, and I'm hectic just to die
But I never see what life will I live after I die,
And it was like loving him—never will he covet me.
And in my sleep I still see the void empty with just me;

And that void I fear for to manacle me evermore
But the gelid atmosphere was as warm as what is death.
I attempt to wake myself, but I'm stuck in the abyss,
Starless firmament above, not the cosmos that I want—
Not one star ever glimmer, nor a sound that I might hear—

Just one star that pose as me shining ever so brightly
Yes! it was just only me—begets light that made me see—
The end and edge of a void, adamantly shackles me,
And a swift flare of daylight flashed my serried sleeping eyes,
But It was not a daylight, and I was not waking up,

Rather it was just a star detonating by itself—
In a void, a vacuity that poses nothing, neither me—
Till it leave nothing at all, till it leave a shooting star.
‘Twas a star that posed as me, a star brightest at its' death,
But I shall die a vacuity unbeknownst to thee.