Awaiting for That "Hello" from The Star

 There is no time I wish to turn back to other than the time when I wasn't born...

It was great.

I knew nothing,

I saw nothing,

I heard nothing,

I felt nothing...

I walked nowhere,

I ran nowhere,

I spoke no words,

I tasted no pain,

I worried not,

I failed, not,

I was pure and free from everything

And everyone.

No spells, no wishes...

Only love and care

From a man to a woman,

And a woman to a man

With no expectations given or received.

It was all a perfectly lived affair,

Until an accident came and hit their lives

Where a sun was sent in to eventually replace

The moon.

The star, maybe, knew of the sun...

Maybe not...

Nevertheless, he saw the sun struggling to reach

His mother's throne,

He called for the star a million times,

In a thousand tones of genres...

Yet, still, the star despised him.

The sun wonders why, and until now...

It is set to be forever for the sun to be waiting

For the star to reply his "Hello".

He's composed an album of melodies

To accompany the hundreds of his poetic notes,

But he drafts it away, for it seems to be a waste

Of voice to be singing to an imaginary wind

Of a thrown away hope.

Yet still, the sun...

As hopeless as he can be,

While being as helpless as he had always been...

He awaits for the call from the star to say

"Hello," with that deeply missed toned voice.

If only he knows that when a person is gone

For good, it doesn't always mean that

The person is dead.

Maybe he knows... yet still, he awaits

With nothing but a pinch size of dignity left...

Whilst walking around day after day...

To hopefully meet him somewhere along the way

And hear that "Hello" voiced out by the one star

Even though he knows that the star is too busy

Shining his wings to even care for his existence,

He still awaits for him...

In the rain, in the heat, in the thunder, and in ruptures.

- Qadeem Zieman