In all my mourning glad smiles and little intricate sadness I find my sapphires once embedded too deep to see under the shimmering façade of worldly ugliness.

And the crafts they go down so smooth and the world slides into the inky night with twinkle lights dancing behind and before my so lonely eyes.

Those foolish stars sing ghoulish hymns of forgiveness through the empty air.
And we ourselves are empty but so convinced in our self aggrandizing thoughts of our sufficiency that we ignore their soft whispering voices.

How could we be empty when we tell ourselves that our hearts our souls our thoughts are the only real things we know? But it's all empty.
You and me and everything in between.

It's all flickering twinkle lights that fade before the sun burns too bright.