Stars and Scars

It's written in the stars in silver 

and in my heart in soars. 

it sits like a diamond

formed in kimberlite, 

willing for a miner to 

hit his final strike. 

it waits patiently like a Pinctada shell

mothering its pearl. 

they call me inane to believe in a 

chimera too beautiful to be real. 

they say stories as such

are written in stars and die there, 

untouched.. yet this hope ages with me,

as much as I can't bring forth its demise. 

it-flickers like fireflies of mid-summer, and

bonfires of November. its cascade of odds 

call me for an embrace like an 

Atlantis wishing on a star for rebirth.

" aren't human hearts

a portal to stars, 

atleast I believe mine is

so tonight when the clock strikes the 

twelfth hour again, I'll surrender a prayer

in its name, like every other night, 

coz that's when we look

up at the same sky that ignites all our scars, 

their reflections lucent

like refined diamonds in a starry November sky 

claiming to fulfill a prayer held closest to the heart.