These Stars

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I cannot remember these stars
Ever looking so mournful,
As though their thoughts had them
Wondering about their eventual
Fatality (which no one can avoid).

Why are these words so cold? I don't
Want to forget the warmth of
The fire, when the wind blew strong,
And took with it half-formed speech
From unopened, hesitant lips.

And I cannot remember the breeze
Ever flowing so sadly, as though
All movement caused them to
Remember people they passed by,
Who have now left existence.

Why is the night so dark? The light
From the lampposts listen to
The requiem of sleeping figures,
As they shift in their slumber,
And their eyes are closed and heavy.

And I cannot remember the trees
Ever bowing in such a sad defeat:
Perhaps they, too, can recall when
The stars shone with the light of
Your smile, which slowly fades.

Why are these stars so lost? I would
Follow them, to find a reason for
Your perpetual absence in everything.
Concealed breaks held in my hand,
And lost people that find their home
Among these stars, as you have,
And as I will.

Someday.

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