I stand beside my window,
my hand resting softly on the chilled glass.
it's rather late,and I'm rather weary,
my heart is hanging rather low.
I can't seem to find,
that rather distinctive glow,
the one I watched for hours,
the one that I grew to know.
I can't find it,
up there in the sky,
I hate to think this absence
is the proof I've been waiting
to find since last night.
its fire has burned out-
now cold,hard, devoid of light,
just another black mass apart of the darker night,
My eyes are searching the heavens,
for a little bit of a sign,
it really does bother me to think,
that I was the only that saw
that poor little star die.