Prose – Rising of the Lights


– Rising of the Lights –

Who will name our constellation
when we become stardust again,
stripped down into our component elements
and spread across the skies?

Who will remember me
when I have finished my song?
Who will place a stone for me
upon the ground when I am gone?

With the rising of the lights
I feel life flash before my eyes,
that last breath growing shallow
as it passes out from my body.