A Sonnet To Stolen Stars and Broken Hearts

On the cold, windswept plains where broken hearts dwell, The star-littered sky speaks, with flickering light, Of chaos in heaven, where night after night, A deepening darkness hints all is not well; Shooting stars rip the sky, the moon casts a spell To make time stand still in the dead of the night. Tell me, who will now hear my tattered soul's plight, Now that all the heavens descend into hell? As the firmament crumbles under its weight, And dead angels fall to the earth down below, No one's left to console my infinite grief. Can lost love lust for stars it can't contemplate? Must it nurse its own wounds, when the moon doesn't glow? Though time heals a heart, in the night, time's a thief.