Green

Old green dagger stabs the bright young star,
Her shine flickers like fireflies of the Bayou,
Gasping for air, for substance, for reason, vacuum-sucked
She did not expect from this wide side space to be ruthless,
Her feelings reciprocated with jabs and punches of malice.

The melancholic realisation when all she wanted was,
to share her warmth with the cold empty spaces,
the somber thought that she just wanted,
to lighten up the empty craters of many lives,

 Filling it with hot orange passion but accompanied with rage,
Dissipating the once humbled dream with bitter cognition,
The barren land was a product of it's own.