Sometimes,
You need to stop.
And rest for a moment.
And people remind you, give you that saying.
Stop and smell the flowers.
But I think,
Stop and look at the stars.
They're so much more beautiful.
The living fire dancing in front of your eyes, the millions of almost exceedingly infinite miles of everything swirling into patterns of perfect numerals,
The galaxies of rock strewn about empty space of the world, blazing and bright,
I don't understand,
It.
I don't understand,
Why some people don't think the stars are beautiful.
Why some don't think the most of the romance of watching them with someone,
Because I could spend forever just seeing them with you.
We're a few good paces away from the fire,
And we still can feel the heat,
Beautiful things are dangerous.
I don't want to experience the stars,
I want to watch them from here,
To see them flicker.
To see the moon shine with the dusty light of the sun.
And that's the only light we have,
All I see is your silhouette,
You're beautiful.
You star.
But you don't burn.
Not me,
I can get as close as I like.
Come with me to look at the stars,
Baby,
I've always considered them as ours,
They're falling,
Harder than I fell for you.
Come with me,
Lay upon the rooftops,
Of the buildings,
Ten stories above the clouds,
Let's barely be able to breathe because we're going to need to catch our breath anyway.
Climb the mountains with me,
Let's conquer Everest,
Let's see the world from it's highest point,
Until the cities themselves become stars,
Let's make galaxies out of the streetlights,
The traffic signs,
Trace the ridiculous constellations that I'm sure you can come up with.
So stop.
Hold my hand,
Sweetie,
Rest for a moment.
And watch the heavens with me.