The life shattering star cries out hallow;
Shaking deep the time-stained bones of the weary dead;
As carves out the light a way towards tomorrow;
As from the heavens, it shines — just above my head;
And as it flies, not grazing past my gaze, but rather straight towards it;
I grip my fists and hold them tight, as I turn so quickly about, so as my enemy to face;
The thing that from on high, now falls down on low, the shining glow it casts away;
In the distance above myself, as if by the hands of my god;
Who has it, towards myself, now hurtled;
Towards this creature that I am, this thing who lives in disgrace;
“- Bastard. I’ll kill you!” I shout, as I lift my fist and shake it into the sun’s face.
Sunrise has come once again and I am still tired;
I do not care for mornings.
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