By: Nathan Rust
Are we Friends?
Are we Human?
What is my Constitution to
who I am
or who I will be?
Have I failed?
Am I flawed?
Perfection seems to me
to be a distant star,
twinkling, beyond
the night.
A star
no one can reach.
A star
no one can hide.
It is neither lost
nor found.
It is neither starving
nor full.
I search for the star--
as it blinks among the universe.
Always to be blinded by the
blanket of stars
masking the large
night sky.
My search is in vain.
My mind can't seem to follow
the star as it mends and blends
the virtue which holds my
hope of life.
Everlasting.
Look--
the light of day dawns.
It meets on the line
of the horizon.
Where the night air
meets the early morning dew.
As the sun rises, and the stars
are erased, from the blackboard
of the universe.
My smile creases when I beckon
unto the first sounds of movement.
Entering the day, and find
that what I had been searching for
had fooled me so.
For it doesn't exist.
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