To see the stars

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  • Sadness

    To see the stars
    We are but embers in this light
    We are but watchers on this flight
    We feel the warmth but do not burn 
    We fight against the cold
    We fight against what we will be 
    Not brave, not smart, nor bold 
    We the passengers of this end
    We fly to run away
    We fly to start the world again
    To the burning of the day
    You the pilots of this start
    You see the pathway for its art
    You look into my eyes and see
    The whole world that is mine to be
    And as I let you take my hand
    I do what you will do
    I walk the pathway you did choose
    I am that half of you
    Within our lives we are the flight
    Each memory, an ember of our light 
    Each half of us, our choices made
    Each memory had, the embers stayed
    Each memory had with those we share
    On life, a mark was drawn
    Each mind and soul we share this trip
    To the light, the dark was torn
    To fight the burning of the light
    Is to walk within the dark
    To not at least see the stars
    Is to die without a mark
    We are but embers in this light
    We are but watchers on this flight

    We feel the warmth but do not burn 
    We fight against the cold
    We fight against what we will be 
    Not brave, not smart, nor bold 

    We the passengers of this end
    We fly to run away
    We fly to start the world again
    To the burning of the day

    You the pilots of this start
    You see the pathway for its art

    You look into my eyes and see
    The whole world that is mine to be

    And as I let you take my hand
    I do what you will do
    I walk the pathway you did choose
    I am that half of you

    Within our lives we are the flight
    Each memory, an ember of our light 

    Each half of us, our choices made
    Each memory had, the embers stayed

    Each memory had with those we share
    On life, a mark was drawn
    Each mind and soul we share this trip
    To the light, the dark was torn

    To fight the burning of the light
    Is to walk within the dark
    To not at least see the stars
    Is to die without a mark

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    MrBudabastic’s Poems (28)

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