Dancing With The Stars....

You made me draw a cliff at night,

A wooden pencil sliding down the night sky.

The seagulls in the seas beneath,

The monkeys on the rooftop of the cliff.

You noticed the stars had gone missing,

The lit-up sky in the darkened space — what an intrigue!

Stars, once aligned, whispered secrets at noon,

Through the rays of their mother moon,

To the ears of the beholders of their bloom.

Shed is the dust that was once desired by their eyes.

The holy harmony of the choir of the moons and the stars' aligned

To make you fall asleep once the lullabies grow old.

The cliff, wide-eyed and awake in its misery,

With monkeys climbing and seagulls fleet,

“Why was it?” You asked.

Pointed out an attention to detail in the map of my mask,

"My parents," I replied,

The archers to the broken stars, spoken were the unforgettable lies.

Thieves of the precious shine, Seinfeld’s maker.

They were the creators:

From The shining meteor showers over the rocked earth,

To the shining salt streams over my ruined worth.

They led one death at a time,

Stole stars one by one, and kept them in their pocket’s sight.

The sparkle in me, once vivid, now perished.

Became invisible, like a forgotten wish.

The painting on the canvas still, glimmering.

The absence of the stars didn’t alter the coating.

The supper at the lunch table with my uncle, Jupiter, and its peers,

We still had moments where we laughed, dear.

The white teeth hid the white lies.

The darkness always overwhelms the light.

The lonely tiger in the corner of the cave marred,

It used to sleep gazing up at the moon and its stars.

I was one of the stars that perished,

The moon consumed all my shine from within to make itself relished.

I am happy to believe,

At least one soul can’t seem to close its eyes without staring into mine.

I ponder, should the moon misplace its luminance,

Would it still amaze our gaze in its prime grace?

Or would it become a mere stone, steps shrouded in frigid air.

Lest the soul be carted off to the sun’s lair.

The moon shines bright evermore,

Rest in peace the stars that never made it through the door,

Rest in peace me, the boy who lost throughout the way.

The canvas, my life’s play.

The moon, my parents’ disguise,

The stars, me personified.

The moon shined, but when the daylight arrives,

It falls, taking down with it its dear stars’ lives.

The only question remains:

Why must the stars relinquish their luster with the moon's descent?