The Stranger from the Stars

The Stranger from the Stars

The sky splits wide, the light is green.

A stranger falls, through fire and smoke.

Its limbs are thin, its eyes are black.

It speaks in tones, that cut the mind.

The earth recoils, the rivers boil.

The trees lean back, the birds take flight.

Its voice is sharp, it wounds the air.

It carves the thought, it bends the will.

It has no love, it has no hate.

It only stares, it only waits.

It reads the flesh, it tastes the blood.

It marks the weak, it marks the strong.

The night grows cold, the stars grow near.

The ground is scorched, the air is wrong.

It walks away, it leaves no sign.

But still the soil remembers pain.

And when you sleep, it waits above.

It bends its gaze, it hunts its prey.

The sky may clear, the night may calm.

But still it stares, and stares, and stays.