Risky Obsession

Is it silly to think, Despite being given everything, We could be obsessed with the stars? Far above, beyond our knowledge, Little twinkles of hinted daylight, That we still try to reach. Is it in our nature to want more, Believing that everything isn't everything, And there's always something else to find. Even if we had to break away from home, Venture into the cold, Past rocks of no meaning, Light of no grace. To find what exactly? What is it that we are reaching for, When gazing up at the stars? What could possibly be out there? Knowledge perhaps, We are always pursuing it. Friends? Someone in the abyss to shout hello, So we know that we aren't alone. I don't blame them for being curious, But in the effort to reach for those lights, We are blind to what we already have, To what we already know. A warmth that only home could bring, A fire slowly dwindling. What if we managed to reach the stars, And coming back we are met with cold? What if, by not focusing on the darkness within our own light, It will destroy itself to the bone. It isn't wrong to be curious, But perhaps first, We should check if we can afford to be curious. If we take a risk without measures, What’s to say it won't come all crashing down?