Even though
every individual
acts as if
they know better
than anyone else,
the world,
as a large group of know it alls,
gets to the point
where it has to admit
that it knows nothing.

Night is just night,
without it being told that
it should be dark
and sunless.

It is what it is,
by its own definition.
It does not need stars to shine
In order to make darkness meaningful.

Still, the stars shine.
They do what they do
Without self-acknowledgement,
They simply do.

Be.
Like night and stars
And meaningfulness
And Self-acknowledgement.

Your alternate universe is full of plot* holes,
but at least you're the star.

So silent, her despair,
The will to be seen , by whom she called her universe
Shallow and narrow, her soul
                                              and her body
Inked with the memory of thy heaven
But her skies turned grey, each time you looked away.

Hello hello oh mystery man
It's funny how people meet
Are you the one who fortune told
Would kiss the ground under my feet?
Now let's not get too ahead of ourselves
Wearing our hearts on our sleeves
But I've been waiting for someone to come along
And make a woman out of me
A voice still unheard yet I can already imagine
I'll melt like morning dew
Hello hello my mystery man
It's a pleasure to finally meet you.