The Beauty of a Dying Star

I thank the god that understands the beauty of chaotic plans. The value of both light and dark. The miracle of a broken heart, where tragedy writes symphonies and pain turns into sacred art.

I write this from a hopeful place, tears running down my hollow face. Blurred vision and an aftertaste. Four years of bittersweet remains, learning to adapt to change and brace for growing pains.

Welcome to a brand new day. This marks the dawning of a whole new age, the turning of a brand new page.

The fireworks of Higher works going off in my mind. The new that we can now create from the remnants left behind.

We watched our dreams collide with reality and now we're left with shattered memories. Friends turned into enemies and heroes unexpectedly arise from the depths of you and I.

The dormant parts of our inner being awakened by a grave misleading. The life we knew is dead and gone. But the force that drives, it still resides within the hearts of you and I, within the souls of humankind, within the spirit of Divine.

I thank divine realities like the pulling force of gravity that forced the paths of you and me; A collision course catastrophe.

The overwhelming density of our substantialities combined created chaos in the mind and a heaviness in our hearts.

The heaviness of dying stars.

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