You were bright-eyed like a flouriest
angel lighting up the streets.
But they can be dimming.
Night has away of draining
beauty
into void less shadows.
I once saw stars in your eyes,
now all I see is the space
in-between.
Flowers blossoming,
spring breezes
were your words to me.
I found you clipped,
dead eclipses vacant within you.
It doesn't matter how bright you shine,
the city may outshine
you.
And what was always able to rise,
set with the demise of light.
They found you extinguished,
in a shallow grave of regret.
Cities have a way of collecting
the wishes upon stars,
and dousing them out in to
nothingness
but silence.
I wish upon a star, but all stars die...
