I tried to find solace in my solitude and slumber,
Looking at the stars, inconceivable in number.
They were so bright, so devoid of strife,
Something so contrary to my life.
They didn't utter a word to me, there was no sound,
But their affect on my heart was profound.
I raised my hand to count the stars,
But was demented, which were more; the stars or my scars.
~*~