I rhyme a star that flew away,
and along the direction which children play.
A song that glistens nesting to cold,
but never snuggles in the winter scold.
It feathers down in the bristles abreeze,
and nestles into the shivers in please.
Something so innoent in which you believe,
but nothing so dangerous to which you see.
It's magical, mystical, quite marvolous indeed,
and all the dust shatters, racing with the wind.
All the miles gone, freezing it's mortal fate,
but not a sign of enemies going after bait.
Down, down the falling to the rise,
with its genius and intelligent and most yet wise.
Combine the ice and water, let the earth collide-
with all other elements have all along its side.
Everything will destroy with all its Godly strength,
Every orbit particle with traveling at great lengths.
Let us all come together and watch the dreadful storm,
but all holding hands to keep in the warm.
Hell has approached what we thought to never say,
and nobody ever knew when or where the day.
The world became destructed, corrupted all well,
but the stars have predicted to all, what we thought suspicious, hell.
