The lights we see from the stars,
Are only bright because they've died,
The lights we see in others,
They diminish in those who've survived.
We find beauty and wonder,
Inside clusters of dead stars,
Yet find only pain and darkness,
In those with more scars.
We see what we know,
And take it for granted,
From all the unknowns,
We are enchanted.
We're stuck in the cycle,
Of always wanting more,
We're stuck in this life,
Trying to make it better than before,
Yet things only seem worse,
Trying to figure out the mysteries,
But some things shouldn't be known,
Be careful of those victories.
©queencobra
Q