The Star Where I Came From

He looked at the star, where I came from
He always met me as a special guest.
He turned the rivers of his mild hairs,
All that I looked for was rest.

He was small, didn’t know what was manner.
He embraced and kissed like the wind.
He was happy when I touched his small head.
And nobody dared to forbid.

And he didn’t know what was the mighty hand.
That once laid as stone on his head.
Cold and bare told him what was pain.
Cold and hard like of lead.

Since that sorrow moved in his little home.
And started to watch from the walls,
Hiding behind the portreats and doors,
Waiting for the day when he falls.

But he cried his tears, knowing well whom I was.
All alone in the dark- Who’s to blame?
And he jumped in my arms when I stepped inside
His eyes were full of brightest flame.

He looked at the star, where I came from.
And sky’s getting smaller for him day by day.
He waited a century for the mighty hand back,
Century he lived after I’ve went away.

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