It is said that the stars are the guardians of fate,
Holding keys to our pasts and the secrets we hate.
It is said that the sky is the map of the wise,
And that blessings will fall on the chosen who rise.
It is said that the sun is a deity of love,
Burning harshly with passion and madness and rage.
It is said that the moon is the ice up above,
Guarding midnight with magical songs of a mage.
It is said that our lives are as quests to the end,
And as races where nobody ever can win.
It is said that our dreams are but like mirror glass,
and they shatter so quickly and fade all too fast.
It is said that our dreams are so frail, paper-thin,
And those lights in the sky are the stars of our dreams.
It is said that our dreams are as visions and lies,
Though to know that they're stars is a truth undenied.
It is said that our paths are perhaps but a dream,
and that all that we know is unlike what it seems.
But what more can we do and what more can we know?
And so what can we live if not life, it alone?
It is said, it is said, but the words can be lies,
It is said, it is said, but what more can we have?
It is said, it is said, but the words are alive,
It is said, it is said, but the choices are thine.
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Good? Bad? Absolutely horrendous? I'd love to have some feedback! (Also, what do you think the poem is really about?)
But anyways. So yeah. This one was pretty fun to write, and I'm fond of it too.
- The Author. (AHEM)