The Mocking Stars

Adrift in black,

free from earthly coil

they stare down coldly

- without compassion.

Oblivious to our minuscule plight,

our indiscernible differences

where we chop off each others' heads

and hands, spill blood on soil

not fit to drink

nor honour in anyone's name.

Our microbe, chugging hearts

full of narrow intentions,

swelled with minuscule importance

lost in a decaying galaxy

of exploding suns

and imploding singularities

outside our understanding.

But they know.

The mocking stars,

they coldly glow

night after night

as if to say

'I told you so'.