Let me harvest the magic of the stars.
To brush my arm against the tapestry of sky and
Pluck those lights off.
There will be no light tonight.
Let me fill my pouch with dying stars and hear
The screams of all the dreams they promised to fulfill but…
No. No more.
There will be no miracles tonight.
Let the shadows rule this night.
Cast away the moon, make him suffer.
Let him wander through the night.
Let him be alone, if only for tonight.
Let the earth be abandoned,
Let it weep and mourn and pray.
Enjoy the pain and let them see that
There will be no dreams.
No, not tonight.
About the Author
Aldas Krūminis is currently finishing his MA in Creative Writing at Loughborough University. His work has been published with Idle Ink, he was a student blogger for http://www.milkround.com and presently he is a writer at RippleZoo. In his free time he writes poetry, short stories and dreams of one day publishing a book. You can find Krūminis on Twitter @AKruminis or on his blog: aldaskruminis.wordpress.com.