The boy brought his rocket ship and his soft pursed lips, pressing his gentle words into the eyes, to brighten the night, the eyes of stars.
It now shines, gleaming, but not with such loud impulsion so that the sun comes to hear; only in a gentle glow, that mimics the boy's lively, beautiful, flow
sending a beacon to path the boy through every star and every galaxy the path so clear,
but the boy long gone
It finds itself to shine to a slight glow refusing to show its silent desires of the gentle cheek of that boy
But still holding, its now, ghastly shade of path a last hope a final word through breath;
finally it shines no more containing its last words wanting to wait or hope no more All of the world seemed to scream except for the boy who forgot to dream.