To Stardust

"This is an end," she said

coming down from the tower

screams of despair echoing through the plumes

of dirt, dust - and yes through her very bones -

once thought made gold by the gods;

a pair forever annihilating each other in precarious balance.

How ridiculous our faith to be placed into something

so volatile, hanging on the threads of mutual destruction?

She questions it only now as her robes of white turn to rust -

robes for show, robes for ceremony - all that was and ever will be

falling into that black hole high up on the tower

( a black eye, a black death? )

and there with her arms outstretched - in supplication?

her fingers curling into claws of strung out ash;

"This is our end!"

What could I say to comfort the apostle

when I myself felt gravity like a chain

pulling me into the sky to touch the very gods?

( That black eye? )

I must reach out, regardless,

to hold her through to the end.

"Then let us be ground, you and I -

not to mere ash, but to stardust;

for that is all we ever were, and all we shall be."

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Author's Note:

I'm working on a new project. (:

Two more poems await your eyes: To the Depths & To Starfall

AN enD Of -