So much ado over a shining star,
The star that looks up at us,
Thinking all it can ever do
Is simply shine.
This thread ball of a world,
With knee deep wet mud
Decomposition between my toes
Skeletons beneath my feet,
Stories and lives between the roots,
Of plants and trees that search for more,
Packed so close to hide the passion
That flows red and yellow within.

Is it just coincidence,
Or a cliche of life,
That everything here is alive from within,
That everything slowly fades towards the outside,
Crust, tissue, magma, bones,
Nerves, blood, dirt and smog,
The heart, the core, buried so deep,
Safe within the confines of skin and life,
Yet hurl a word with a jagged edge,
And the armour falls as strong as it stands.

So much ado over a shining star,
Ask me, I float in endless space,
And if I had anything to share soon
With this threadbare, beaten world,
I would share by the slip of my breath;

You.