Stargazing tiger-lilies
Riding in the backseat of the night
Feeling so strange, so extra-ordinary
Pointing fingers at streaming lights
Whizzing through the night
Wasting time, just skipping stars
The night is ours
We could run to Mercury
We can visit Mars
Maybe even sing a hymn of ours
Stargazing tiger-lilies
Painting pictures of prison bars
Visiting Hercules behind old cars
Casting pages in the river Styx
Waiting for Charon to ferry us
Across the river of the dead.
Poet: Skyy Allen
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