Starry Night (poem)

Starry Night

Starry night! starry night!
What nights like these
beneath the ink-stained sky,
twinkling diffusions blowing out
into scintillating madness?

This black matter aftermath
wondrous to the sight sublime,
a beautiful terror engulfing
unexpected visions with those
of melancholic despair.

Such strange clouds!
Half-visible to the eye,
painting infinite battle-fields
lost in a sea of explosions
in the atmosphere,
bodies smearing across the chaos.

Oh, what such pleasurable
memories from these celestial reveries?
Alive in our eyes, mesmerized by
the spectacle littering the sky.

Along these banks do we sit
and watch the tenebrous heavens
shatter before our eyes in
luminous rhapsody, their pensive
showers streaking over the Rhone.

Fading out, the symphonic remnants
pulse melodies overhead.
The harbor plays on,
cityscapes shimmering on lighthouse
reflections for ships to sail in.

— The Finicky Cynic

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