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Description
Silent watch

Standing up, again, but for what I do not know. The world seems not as it was or what I wanted it to be, and the future seems stale beneath my feet.

Time is a steady flow, it comes and goes at it always has, though now it seems filmed in grey. Darker is darker, brighter is brighter on the streets of today. My eyes glaze, ripple and burn at the coming of another day of empty arm and silent phone.

There is beauty in the grey though found in the oddest place. To have and to hold though with no return of word or touch, and that which was bright is still so gleaming that it burns the eyes and I have to turn away.

Happy were the days that I gazed at that bright star with angel wings and knew it was real and not a drawing on a page. Fiction made fact by truth and evident hesitant touch, a fact so real and magical fear tugs you not to touch in case it was so fragile it would break.

Disbelief of something so perfect, not by practice but by being, could stand before me would never hear my words. That star did and oh to have the stars talk to you and reach down to you as you once reached to them in your dreams.

Stars shine so bright when they are so close and you wish that you could see them for what they were in truth. My eyes wished to open but cried instead, and I longed so hard to be able to see it and wished that I could shine just as bright.

The star within wished for the first time to shine and light the heavens, the same as that which was so near.

I could not see ….and that star has passed me by.

The world is so much darker when a star has passed you by…

My words can not reach it no matter how hard I yell into the stark black sky. My words want to be filled with that light I wished I could have been. Refracted, bent, turned and blocked they never reach the sky.

There are so many stars in the sky, but none are as bright as the one that lit my star…

Standing up again…silent watch I give the sky.

Description
Silent watch

Standing up, again, but for what I do not know. The world seems not as it was or what I wanted it to be, and the future seems stale beneath my feet.

Time is a steady flow, it comes and goes at it always has, though now it seems filmed in grey. Darker is darker, brighter is brighter on the streets of today. My eyes glaze, ripple and burn at the coming of another day of empty arm and silent phone.

There is beauty in the grey though found in the oddest place. To have and to hold though with no return of word or touch, and that which was bright is still so gleaming that it burns the eyes and I have to turn away.

Happy were the days that I gazed at that bright star with angel wings and knew it was real and not a drawing on a page. Fiction made fact by truth and evident hesitant touch, a fact so real and magical fear tugs you not to touch in case it was so fragile it would break.

Disbelief of something so perfect, not by practice but by being, could stand before me would never hear my words. That star did and oh to have the stars talk to you and reach down to you as you once reached to them in your dreams.

Stars shine so bright when they are so close and you wish that you could see them for what they were in truth. My eyes wished to open but cried instead, and I longed so hard to be able to see it and wished that I could shine just as bright.

The star within wished for the first time to shine and light the heavens, the same as that which was so near.

I could not see ….and that star has passed me by.

The world is so much darker when a star has passed you by…

My words can not reach it no matter how hard I yell into the stark black sky. My words want to be filled with that light I wished I could have been. Refracted, bent, turned and blocked they never reach the sky.

There are so many stars in the sky, but none are as bright as the one that lit my star…

Standing up again…silent watch I give the sky.