Epilogue

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Whoever told you that stardust is beautiful?

Stars were never peaceful
Never pretty;
They're writhing balls of fire
Fighting vicious and alone against the endless cold of the universe.
They don't shine for anyone;
They're just burning,
Burning
Burning
Destroying themselves from the inside out
In a hopeless quest for survival.

Stardust is their death.
It's the last vestige of a burnt-out inferno
Turned cold in the vast darkness of space.
It's a million years of vanished history.
It's the remnants of a cosmic war.
It's the dying wish of a burning star,
An infinity of ashes tossed into the universe
A shattered corpse scattered through time and space.

It's angry.

It's deadly. It's burning and cold and desperate and vengeful.

It was never beautiful.

and darling, you and I are made of stardust. (j.p.)

Poet: pencap.tumblr.com

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