I have spent my nights
 in perfect darkness
Without the company 
 of scattered constellations

As the night denies
 a stars decay
And hangs their form 
 for millennia out lived

And I refuse to look up 
 with indescribable loneliness 
To be mocked by the
 a black expanse of grief

To stare up at preserved
 archaic corpses
To wish upon the empty shell
 of a star.