Secret Stars

Just a random poem. Not great, but still, It counts for something. It makes you think, or at least it made me think.

I look up at night, only to see one million eyes staring straight back at me, and I wonder... Why? What do they think, what do they see? Silent guards, secret spies, what have they seen? What do they know? I know only that they go, only that they disappear every day, to show up again that night. They shine and wink, only, it seems, to tease. So bright, so lucky, occasionally running across the sky, make a wish, they perhaps will grant, for some are lucky, but some are not. They guided us since time began, and they still watch over us, silent guardians, weaving dreams, lighting nights, guiding us silently, watching everything. Perhaps they know all, then again maybe not, for what are we but another rock? Silent eyes, among the face of the moon, only to disappear when the sun shines its bright face. Where do they go when the sun is up? Are they there, watching, or do they sleep slowly, as we do at night? We are a rock, nothing more, but they are bright, they are light. How gifted all that seems! They shine, and shine, but never waiver, perhaps they wink, but never a blink. They shine on us, lighting the night, guarding the night from all that will bite. They are bright, they are light, they are silent, they are always there.

The End

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