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Blameless are you distant Star,
Your infancy we shall not mar,
Nor dull your effervescent light,
Or stationary floating flight.
Your creators in their haste,
Became a foaming tumultuous waste,
Of Sea and Sun were you then born,
Just as for Sea and Sun you'll mourn,
But before you bare that stain,
Of loss and sorrow - remorseful rain,
Smile in child's ignorance,
Sweet loving stares of innocence,
And as age does come upon you,
And you realize years are few,
Let not these days go by and bye,
Passing as an empty sigh....
It is with birth that it begins,
Numbered grains do then descend,
The narrow neck of slipping sands,
Into the bottom bulb it lands,
Never to be turned again,
Once it starts it has to end,
As it is with all who live,
The Universe does take and give,
And though Her scales are never fair,
None whom breathe - does She spare.
So find within your falling grains,
None of your makers binding chains,
That would shackle you to their,
Haunting ghosts of yesteryear,
So be it love or passions zest,
The building of your offspring's nest,
Of art or child do create,
That which makes fulfilling Fate,
And blink and shine for them below,
So your dieing parents know,
That their lives were not in vain,
There's purpose found within their pain.