Still

[Star-Thrower]

Still

It is still.
It met with death
so slowly, so
gradually, so
barely noticeably.

Fading finally
out of its necessary,
right now existence,
there was no one
to be left behind.

There was no one
left to touch this grief.
We are alone, we have
no one, you know, to
share deep mourning with.

Velvet blackness cloaks
the funeral night, night,
which grieves starless.