The Stars were Misty

The stars were misty In my days of innocence where imagination explored possibilities The stars are no longer misty in my days of gray where I've passed through the internal turmoils of civilization and its illusions burdened by being a pawn in the war between the concepts of good and evil Frightened that the universe is no more than what I see, as I move closer to death and realize faith is a tool, stained with the blood of millions a collector of treasure, dressed in a disguise of deception I cry for my ignorance and the souls lost in religious wars I cry for the fate that awaits me and the mask I wear to my grave Where I'll pray...that the universe is more than what I see