DEAD STAR

 dead star;

  by: estefaaano_writes

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Tried to construct the collision, the collapse of a dead star.

Distant, dead. Resuscitate.

The murderous buckshot and the bullets, all these I feel.

But not so unhappy.

Painless.

I lie down, exhausted.

Life is a series of choices between wonders.

Interpreting what I see, selecting the most workable among all.

Seeking solace from the old light.

Wondering, is there a bright light between imagination and memory?

Maybe I’ll get there by candlelight.