At midnight, right before bed, I gazed into the black vault above.
Although the eternity still hid in the shadows, it had moved.
Twas the stars, rattling in their stalls, chained to infinite time. Usually they shone bright with pirecing light, but not at this while.
Their lids blinking, their light flickering. spinning in an orbit but looking to rest. In the dead silence they screamed like a child about to be strangled to death.
In panic the completely silent screams chilled my bones like the winter wind touching upon naked flesh. The sky cried rocks of ice, smashing the windows of my home. The tears entered my room.
Was I the only one awake? Only I had been told?
The stars is in pain, the sky's getting old.
The world must know about this infectious disease that had stricken out gates, it needs to be fixed before it's too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem