The night is cold and stagnant in the dead of winter
Making this journey arduous at best
It is nights such as these that make me second guess
That eye within my mind
What is it I am chasing after?
Is it an idea
A symbol of something magnificent?
Or is it simply
Just an assembly
A mass of gaseous particles
Shining down
A false beacon of
Unattainable magnitude
What is it the light beholds
A joyous Beginning
Or a somber Conclusion?
There is certainly a birth
But when I reach the end of my journey
I fear
It may be the end
Were we led all this way for a Birth
Or a Death?
