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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Navigating the immense void of night The right ascension to a winter’s sky; Coincides with the height from which I stood Stars, interlinking crescendo’s so freely, Imitate the centuries, as I presumed as much. At least with one tuned in, to so many stars The magnitude existence found, far large; Appearing close to one another as a variable Heralded each, a legend the Greeks had made. (The Constellations) Snoozing with the intention of inanimate usage The head long bolster pillow, namely, ‘Hydra’, Chose an encounter with Hercules as foe Prolong impetuous, to each gradual hemisphere, As one could sideways look, exclaim its’ breath Pursuing each as on-lookers, chose that group! Individually did it taper each ceaseless path. Warily, with twisting motion, a scathing attack Searching menageries from whence it came; To the labyrinths where pulsars engage sense Trails to adjoining torsos, and ten thousand heads, Though be them stars or for the sheer hell of it Combine as one, each with a will of its own; As per chance, with the combined effort, sway Euripides, a watercourse, with banks on each. There, Centaurus takes grip of its south west tip Uninspiring Sextans, via Alphard’s luminary The heart to all there is, and everlasting life, Immortality may be a reality or mere illusion. Secondments trail to endearments out of view, To Southern scopes from omnipotent fathers; Godly endeavours that imaginations flame Find these dreams for us, the Hydra dead, To remain in searing portals to then regroup Bestowed as thoughts to future centuries. This modern social scene has overhung- Encompassed by a twirl, one single snake That twisted and turned where each was caught By something that as groups could never see, We as the stars ourselves imposing on each Imposing one another, avoiding calm. This meandering replacement deals with hope, Extremely drawn out as the Hydra is; To engulf every membrane of tale told so far, Where mass of spatial existence seems blood From which taking blame its life’s loss came, And every impending story told so far, Was simply a daydream to a night time sky.
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