Far Gone

The night far gone, the stars decide to change.

Beyond my window, light-flies scintillate.

A death-tinged calm muffles to suffocate.

Each end-stopped point of fire moves in strange

Designs. There burns a flight of flame. A range

Of winds blow tingling, led by darkness’ weight.

Decide to change the stars—oh silver hate:

Those gods above repeal and rearrange.

The night far gone. The crickets dumbly screech.

And scintillating, light-flies eat the dark.

Beyond design these godless I beseech.

The night far gone. The stars are dressed in lead.

My window steers this ever-turning ark.

With me, the mind of stars goes slightly mad.

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