• At times in wonderment, the stars draw us to them.
    Much like humans, there are thousands and each are bright
    And all seem the same and indifferent to others,
    Save for the ones near one, close to it.

    In the dark sky and so far away we watch them,
    As we would a crowd in a street or on TV.
    Distant, removed, and cold from strangers as life plays out.
    Flickering, sparkling, akin to the bright light of life.
    Dancing and weaving in the midst of others,
    All the while both the same and different
    In that we are all of one race and of many opinions.

    It is easy to lose track of what we wish for, what we hope for
    Just as it is easy to lose that one twinkle when one glances away.
    Values and integrity are malleable to the ravages of time.
    And it is strange to see a familiar face after so long,
    So changed by the years and so different from what our memories hold.

    Indeed, even entire beings can be changed by something simple.
    Whether it is from an event or a person
    We, like stars, are liable to shift in the darkness,
    Similiar to the flame or light of a candle in a dark room.
    The chance of the edges of the scale tipping, from good or from evil,
    Are never impossible, even if there is the slightest chance.

    Hearts can harden just as soften,
    Oft to the pride or dismay of a loved one.
    In those times, when the darker is chosen,
    Shall we just ignore it or view it detachedly like the veiled sky?

    For what is it worth, this life and this heart?
    Friendship? Love? The world?
    One soul among millions, swayed by Fate's decree,
    A single being betwixt billions, unwavering and free.
    What is it that puts value to it to others?
    The many that care for and embrace,
    That cry for and defend against danger,
    In order to bring a smile to a face and live another day.

    Is it the immediate thought of how short our lives are,
    And how humans have a ticking clock?
    Do we act irresponsibly because of the time we have left,
    Or do we act noble and just in order to be remembered?

    Remembrance is what we, I, hold dear.
    Forgetfulness is what tugs at my heart, twisting and allowing fear to creep in.
    The realization of utter despair, that in the night sky of life, of the world,
    That the star and we are just as susceptible to recognition
    As we are to breaking, and shattering into dust on Fate's solar wind.