jeru

Lying down beneath the stars
alone at last I rest.
Feeling right feels good,
but being right is best.

Oft shooting stars had their effect.
Perfect things left laid.
Oft our hands are held
at perfect hands asleep.

Heavy hearts can you held your hand?
Took your best to understand
that light and dark are wrong
and oft, all the rest is dust.

If we can’t it’s understood
that we never could.
The stars still held when we fell.
Would our hands do what they should?

When they turn from green to brown
what any child can test,
what makes the sound?
What shakes the ground?
It is the greatest.

Heavy hearts come hold our hand,
The planets help you understand
that light and dark are wrong,
and oft, all that’s left is us.