I used to think that I would be a brightstar,
but I knew that brightstars burnt out fast.
The fear was there, I still admit; 
 the whisper of you breath (I thought)
said you'd be the wish on my last descent.
Who did I think I was? One so young,
and with so little experience.
Like the fourth of July, I set out for heaven.
And in a flowing arc I came down fast,
and I came down hard.
And then I saw, so clearly, the chance
that I had thought was "Life",
was just another holiday to you.

I felt as deep as the sea, and as endlessly blue
A collection of moments, boundless;
leading straight back to you.
For I am a moon, one side ever dark.
The other reflecting someone else's glory.
Is it a gift, or the greatest of tragedy,
that a piece of me still made it, 
to keep company with greeks?
So that all could guide their nights
by the error of our ways.
I'll never know what could have been,
nor have a want to hear that crystal knell.
The life worth living is the one hard to foretell.


I think it might be missing something...perhaps it will come. I'll let you know, or better yet, you tell me.