Stars cross, waves meet,
People love one another, and then retreat;
Nothing can last forever, not even love,
It's a mixmatch, a loose glove.
Sooner or later, death takes everything,
Dead silence permeates, when everyone's done singing;
Coldness creeps in, when all you want is heat,
Happiness will always end in defeat.
Laughter loses it's echo in a blink of an eye,
Even the wind and the sun will eventually die;
A dead orb, is the future of the Earth,
Stars cross, waves meet...but no new births.
