The star and the lone sky,
In a hovel of hope,
Just by the road off the slope,
Where criminals breed,
but with good thoughts abundant,
and the narrow minded bleed
through fears of the humble.
Love, loved and it lost,
Yet found again to accost,
And sighs as it walks by these familiar places
Time and time again although it sees these new faces.
Cloaked in the shadows, In silence it trudged
With a Veil of mystery, it saw and it judged.
Spewing roses of red as it glided through lives
The begrudged love never did need its knives.