The stars are lonely rangers in the night sky
That call to me beneath a thousand lullabies,
Drifting through the precincts of
My still-born eyes.
They alone know me.
Slipping into my half-beat frequency
To sing their misconstrued soliloquies -
A whisper of a shadow on
A moon lit breeze.
In the chasmic shrine of the blood breached night
Sleeps the star most divine with the brightest light,
Yes, the brightest light but the quickest soul,
Far too soon the night shall swallow her whole,
And I so besotted shall become so broken
Before ever a word her lips have spoken.
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