The angels weep silently,
As the stars fall into the night.
Signifying another life lost,
Into the mist, out of sight.

My star still burns,
Yet so dimly it might fall too.
For I'm not dead but am dying,
Fading out of what I once knew.

What purpose do I have?
Just a meaningless ball of gas.
Why should keep on burning?
If I'm just living like broken glass.

Stuck in the between
Of life and death and,
what matters most

Slowly weeping
For what I should've had,
could've had so close

From a shooting star
To a dying one
Just waiting to fall too

From a bright light
To a crying one
Just wanting to start anew

And as I gaze out to the mist
I see another one fall
The angels weeping silently
For the next one they call