Child of the stars, my voice carries you through the cosmic darkness

Child of the stars, my voice carries you through the cosmic darkness, We speak of sparkling children, burned by the golden light of ambitions, Childhoods scattered among book pages, too wise, too bright, Stars of the neighborhood, shining like gods among mortals, They make you feel divinity flowing through your veins like a river of light, But tell me, do you remember how gods fall from their golden sky, How they grow into angels with shattered halos, with ancient melancholies carved in their bones, Echoes of philosophy and empathy, with crushed hearts and broken homes, With the desire to fly far away, toward horizons untouched by time, You understand, don't you, When I tell you I hate the pyramid's peak, the altar of childhood sacrifices, Child of the stars, do you hear my call from the depths of heaven? Perfect grades adorn my grave with medals and certificates, Like ghosts of subjects I didn't enjoy, Knowledge maimed by the boundaries of grades, Curiosity suffocated by cramped pages, A curse so brilliant, a golden mistake, Do you hear me now? Do you understand why my wings tremble at the sight of mountain peaks, Do you remember the loneliness from the heights of heaven? Our deepest fear is to fall, To transform into memories carried by the wind of oblivion, In a world that wanted us as gods, but left us as lost angels.