Dancing with the Stars

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 16, 2018

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Submitted: July 16, 2018



The bright full moon

Fills the dark night.

You stand at the edge of the lake.

The stars are bright

As they reflect off of the surface.

The wind rushes through,

Causing the chatter of leaves.

You look up to the moon.

It smiles

As it mocks you.

A deep seated worriness

Roots within.

You look around,

Wanting to escape,

Only to find

The trees groan,

Talking about you.

Laughing at you.

The feeling within


You run.

Past the laughing trees.

Past the shining gaze of stars.

You run,

Under the mocking moon.

The Further you go,

The Deeper you push,

Into the dark grove.

It feels like hours.


You see an escape.

A gap between the mocking bark.

It's bright.

Brighter than the moon
Brighter than the stars.

You break through,

And finally,

You stop.

You catch your breath.

You take in the surroundings.

They're the same as before.

The trees groan in laughter,

But it is but a whisper.

The contemptuous moon,

Stares through the branches,

Laughing at your foolishness,
For you cannot escape these woods,
As they are of your own design.

The lake offers nothing,
Only your reflection is shown
Against a starry field.

You are lost

Within a maze

Of despair and anxiety.

Every turn

Is a wall.

Every step forward

Is backward,

Taking you further from leaving.

Further from escaping

This selfmade hellscape.

You approach the lake.

You stand at the edge.

The stars blink,

Almost dance on the surface.

Beneath this perfect replica of the sky,

You see no bottom.

Only the Emptiness inside

That’s Devoid of life.

They are beautiful,

The stars.

They invite you to dance.

You want to dance.

You walk into the lake

And ascend.

You walk into the cold embrace

Of the still moving liquid,

To dance with the stars.




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