Amongst the Stars

It's all a fleeting image,
The illusions will eventually fade away.
The dawn will arise with mists and smoke,
Upon a world splashed with grey.

The light won't shine through yet,
The smiles won't erase the sorrow.
No familiar face will look for you,
No sigh to greet the morrow.

Clear is the truth before you,
Strange yet is your bearing.
You stand alone ringed with defeat,
A trodden flower, a sceptreless king.

Blow the horns and blare the trumpets,
Make a mess of your vanity.
Paint your faces with hues and shades,
Shout and cry, shriek with glee.

Avail you they will, you think?
Steer you through the wind?
Lift you up on the wings of the storm,
Set your banners flurrying?

It's bound to pass, all of it,
The sun will set in a pool of blood.
And you will drown along with its glow,
You will drown and you will burn.

Your wings will not help you then,
Forged as they are with twigs and mud.
Too late will you realize,
Too soon will burst the flood.

Can you not smell the stench,
The reek of lies you raise?
Can you not see the ashes,
That lie forlorn in your wake?

A pessimist will they brand me,
A craven soul, feeble and frail.
A grumbler with a deranged history,
A skeptic devoid of faith.

Say what they will,
You, reader, you know better.
You know I speak the truth,
However harsh it be, however bitter.

It is not fruitless to hope,
Not forbidden to dream away.
But it is pitiful to await the morn,
Gazing with eyes thus patched and frayed.

Your story isn't worth telling,
Whatever they may boast and bellow.
A speck of dust in the mire of time,
Floating in the emptiness; to and fro, to and fro.

Are you humbled yet?
Your legends brought down and torn?
That be worth all this rambling,
That be worth all the scorn.

So let go of the delusions,
Your arrogance and conceit.
Your hubris and spiteful contempt,
The belief in an inferior being.

Gather all your woes,
All your falsity, all your grandeur.
Fling them away, cast them down,
Set them ablaze, watch them scatter.

Nothing will sound so sweet,
As the clangour of chains shattering.
Nothing will sound so enchanted,
As the rustles of leaves gathering.

The world doesn't need a great hero,
To make a difference in the tide.
All it needs is you,
Free from fantasies, bereft of pride.

In the anonymity of shadows,
Think not there dwells mediocrity.
In the nameless depths of forgotten lore,
Think not there dwell the ordinary.

The stage would scarce be set, my friend,
But for them the curtain hides.
But for the abyss amid the twinkles,
Their brilliance would no longer entice.

For only when we see ourselves,
As we truly are,
Can we truly find ourselves,
Dwelling amongst the stars.

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This has been in the drafts for quite some time now. Wanted to post it yesterday; didn't work out. Never mind. You may think the repetitions are way too many but I found them necessary for the emphasis, as this one lays a lot of stress on the message, which you may or may not agree with. Do leave reviews. Need them.