I am like a shooting star, separated by my origin. I am homeless plus emotionless. There is not a big difference between these two. I am torn of my own self. I am moving with great speed, towards 'nothing'. My destination is unknown among thousands of galaxies. Still, people want me to grant them there wishes. I am lost myself, how I can complete your wish? How can you be so mean,my love? Millions of people live on that star called earth. None of them ever noticed my eroded being, none of them prayed for 'me'. When you, my love, watch me going away on those silent nights, you do not stop me, your heart does not moan by the separation as mine does.  You let me drown in nothingness.
When you wish, you direct your face towards me, you close your eyes, your lips quiver a bit and then a smile thrown by moon touches those rosy lips and then I see what even the heavens can not offer me.
Your face lit in moonlight.
I lose my breath.
That quiver of your lips is always enough to give me the strength. Strength  for sacrifice. So when you wish,I use last of what I have, beg my God to postpone my wish in order to grant yours, not realizing your wish is contradictory to mine.
I wish for my origin, I mean You.
You wish for a haven that has no room for me.
I roam in the constellations in the hope that one day the postponed day will arrive.
It never comes,
you never stop wishing,
I never stop giving you my turn,
I am like that shooting star.