it's 11:11pm
where sorrowful low spirits cry
sanguine prays to the other side of the sky
the galaxy listens
maybe a little too closely
the cold atmosphere holds many's outbursts
collecting agony and desires
one too many wishes
for the young stars to bear.

but listen to our ambition,
observe our devotion,
sympathise our situation.
scrutinise the inclination of our appetite.

it's 11:11pm
it's a galactic duty for the baby stars,
not for too long.
because nobody likes waiting.
so create that miracle of ours and
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