Eternal and unrelenting hope, an atrocious failing of mortality.

A star filled sky of otherwise empty darkness, bleak and unfeeling;
infinite wishes of memorable dreams on cloudless nights.

A paradoxical overseer of fate, of desires and dreams, sweet selfish fantasies.

Runes erased by crimson-stained tea leaves drowned in the realism of the unknown,
oracles silenced by their own untold truths, drowned in the fallacy of the unseen.

Lamentations and regrets, shrouds of the past clouding a realistic future.

You once said you thought you were wishing on burnt-out stars,
but maybe you were just afraid to wish hard enough.

Eternal and unrelenting hope, a beautiful charm of mortality.

As the world turns, the sky transfigures itself per wants and desires,
but some of us see but moonlight in star-streaked skies.

Some stars cannot be seen without first opening your eyes to their mortal beauty.