Old Souls Of Stars

Old Souls Of Stars
© Surazeus
2026 08 28

We are frail mortal dust that dreams of light, 
small fragments fallen from soul-beaming fire, 
old souls of stars that burned before the world, 
whose furnace forged our thoughts in molten time, 
and scatters us as seeds across cold void 
to wake in flesh and wonder what we are. 

We glow within vast crucible of suns 
when hydrogen sings hymns of violent birth, 
compressed to diamond hardness in their hearts, 
and burst in supernova bloom of death, 
propelling our bright atoms through vast night 
to drift ten billion years toward this green Earth. 

Now locked in bone we bear that primal blaze, 
clear glimmer of celestial memory 
that flickers when we gaze at midnight sky 
and feel strange kinship with those distant lamps, 
for every eye that peers in star-strewn dark 
recalls the home from which its light was beamed. 

The iron in our blood was stellar ash, 
the calcium that props our active frame 
was cooked in dying giants long ago, 
so when our hearts beat fast with love or fear, 
the rhythm pulses from that ancient drum 
that first began to throb in central suns. 

We think we walk alone on lonely ground, 
yet constellations wheel within our veins, 
their mythic figures mapped in neural fire, 
and when we love with grief from dream of gods 
we reenact grand drama of huge spheres 
where light yearns still for light across the gulf. 

So though we dissipate to ash at death, 
extinguished when the body cools to clay, 
our atoms lit in starlight cannot fade, 
but swirl again to join their parent glow, 
returning through the dark on silver wings 
to shine once more where new suns take their form. 

We are the universe that learns to see, 
the cosmos waking from its dreamless sleep, 
with eyes that open on the edge of time 
to watch itself unfold in bloom through thought, 
and in each soul that suffers, sings, and strives 
our star recalls its journey and burns on. 

As temporary souls of ancient stars 
we swirl in Earth to learn the shape of flesh, 
taste the bitter-sweet salt of human tears, 
and turn our timeless light to words in song 
so all who hear may lift their gaze above 
and know themselves as children of the stars.