This is to a star. You know,
when stars die they call it supernova.
It’s an otherworldy summons of light,
but after supernova the light is gone.
After the majesty one star is no more.
One day, the sun perhaps will go supernova.
No one will sing a love song ad solis.
There are some things we can live through,
and others we can’t survive without.
There are some choices with only wrong answers.
Canamus solum ad astra cernamus;
parae resae ad mundus non communicamus.
We only sing to the stars we perceive;
we do not share the little things with the world.
No ballads were sung for a shipless Argonaut.
Baby stars are called protostars. They are formed
by the phantoms of star-death; brought forth
into nebula. When stars are born
do they know they will one day die?
Every star deserves a supernova devotion.