Silver lines stretching infinitely
Atoms of dust
Stars crushing themselves alive
Checkered across the plain
Webbed waypoints supporting the tapestry

Life among the stars spinning fast
Fading brilliant lights
Scattered dust among the skies
Pondering an infinite cycle of why
Oblivious to the Weaver's gentle nudge
A cosmic string intertwined with dusty lives
Cradled by gravity to keep stomachs tight

Stories of old
Creation's magic and a socerer's stone
Fervent prayers of desperate souls
Each cry an echo vibrating a string
Of the untold and grieving nights
And heroes and villains of the heart
Empty throes if only known
The pain would surely go

A Weaver of majesty
Knows her tapestry
Each fiber taut or loose
Is a making of her own
If gravity should let us know we aren't alone
Our stories will never grow old.