the past i cannot speak on, for i do not remember,
and speaking on the future is like waiting on an ember
as the fire is still burning in the open space.
With every passing moment,
I was in a life-long rush
because I could not guess
when I might self-combust
She checks herself in the mirror, squints her eyes and applies just enough imagination to make herself somewhat resemble her glory years; a fair approximation, but a little rough and ragged around the edges, just like any survivor.
There are old cultures, those that still remember the birth of the world, that say the star thief is a star himself, banished from the sky above for some ill deed whose truth no one can agree upon. Some say that he angered the stars that came before him, some say he shone too brightly to be allowed permanence above the clouds, unfit to share skyline with the old moon.
art and flair courtesy of @PegasusPhysics
Art is sourced from the respective posts
Reflections by Sunravelme