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silver light Nov 21
the brightest stars originate from nothing
but the light at the end of this painful road is fleeting away
and im afraid ill never find myself kindling

the brightest stars shine among the black sea
but i find myself enveloped within the abyss
there's no point of return for me.

the brightest stars become prismatic clouds when they die
but i know now that even when i'm gone from this world
all that will be of me is a drifting waft of smoke resting by.

the universe is a perpetual dance of light
yet i find myself waltzing with the void
away from all, yet away from blight.

i may not become a star, let alone a kindle
but i'll be away from life's hatred
outside insolent maws, away from all - i dwindle.
i may not be a star like everyone else
and their brightness may burn my skin
but where red streaks of fire rest
cold, blue light under the moon
is where i find my only solace.
Poetic T Apr 2018
We are in a abundance of  fluidic obscurity.
    Tidal forces collect the stones of creation
                     weaving them upon the shores
                                             of static boulders.

Melodic in there rhythmic causality.
        Caught in the gravitational flow
     within the onyx oceans of forever.
There are ripples in the static, migrating.

Luminous moments breath below
               the murkiness stirring life.
                   Where a crest of nihility
washes many away, but life lingers.

Like fireflies they perforate the tides
of eternity, breathing for moments
               before expelling there beauty,
to once again create elegance in a sea of darkness.
The universe as if it were the sea

— The End —