Death of a Star

From subtle softness of relief

to bliss levitating dense bones,

from splinters of poking discomfort

to despair that paralyzes time,

we bow heads and fold hands

pleading to be saved or delivered,

yet judgements of bad or good

assessments of well spent or wasted

conclusions of failure or success

don't hold any weight in space

and give way like a collapsing star, 

puffing its chest as the flame dies

trying to swallow nuance and destiny

in it’s cloud of final defiance to fate,

yet the neutron star and the black hole

like a celebration and a mourning,

are only iterations of the same,

stem cells of nothing and everything,

telling us to set down our scales

and lighten minds sunken with opinion

to take our turn riding the cosmos.