A streak of silver splits the sky,
A fleeting spark where dreams may lie.
In silent grace, it carves the night,
A whispered flame, a breath of light.
No voice it speaks, no time to stay,
Yet in its path, the dark gives way.
A moment brief, then it is gone,
But hope remains, still shining on.
You tore the sky with burning grace,
a kiss of fire in midnight’s face,
No promise made, no voice, no name,
yet all stood still to watch your flame.
For just one blink, the stars stood shy,
as you lit poems across the sky.
Now darkness sighs where you once passed…
a love too brief, too bright to last.