Stardust by Thomas Y

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Everyone's made of stardust,

Each individual a bright burning star.

They release huge amounts of energy,

From the powerful passion burning at their core.

Deep inside lies the fuel for an entire system and beyond.

To someone, each person is a beacon of light,

Providing plenty for life to prosper.

Though, stars are also violent.

You can't get close to them

Because they'll burn anything in their path.

An angry star can consume everything it's ever been seen by,

All in one big gulp.

In just one angry moment:

Gone.

It only takes one spiteful solar flare

To shift a dream to a nightmare.

The stars, they are gods,

Everything around at their mercy.

At their feet we must worship,

Because a star has a choice.

It can create life or destroy it,

Cause pain or revoke it.

It can blind you, guide you,

Make you or break you.

So, if everyone's made of stardust,

Do we all have that inside us?

Each individual a destructive element

That can burn you to a crisp.

One moment.

One second of instability.

One big bang.

That's all it takes.

And everything disappears.

But most importantly,

Stars can choose to create.

They can guide someone otherwise lost,

And be the light that brings them home.

Its energy does not have to overpower,

It can simply choose to keep us warm.

If we had more stars that created,

Imagine the life that could prosper.

We'd be less alone in this darkness,

Have some friends to fill the vastness.

They'd be enough light to fight the violence.

And more noise to negate the deafening silence.