Stars shine bright
From a distance, we know.
They're like tiny little knives
Striking skies of black snow.
And while their shine is ever bright
And seems to never end,
It all looks but a ruse
When the sun finally ascends.
These blades provide a warmth,
Yet in the cold darkness they hide. They strike down cold shadows
When they lurk by bedside.
These blades point the way
And guide every traveller that walks.
Yet that is not their purpose,
And still none wind up lost.
These blades are complex-
Sharp alloys of mystery.
Cloaked in strange garmen,
That only few people see.
One must look up
To know of their presence,
Looming near but high
Enough to expell their soft essence.
It is the stars that knit the sky
In a web of luminating light.
They're like knives driven deep
To soften the human plight.
They're seen brightest in the dark,
That is not untrue.
But still in day remains those stars-
Stars such as you.
YOU ARE READING
Emanations Of The Heart
PoetryΞ if actions speak louder than words why is the pen mightier than the sword Ξ
