Altair, though not thy name.

Altair, though not who thee are.

Altair, how can I not…

Compare thee to a star?

When my star burns I am blissful.

When my star wanes I am wistful.

Why do all my emotions fall on him?

Altair my star, please shine again with light so heavenly.

Altair my star, when thou lockest the key to

the door that lets me in, o how the sky seems somber.

But when thou shares, opens thy chest full

with secrets, bestowing them upon me

o how my heart holds, keeps, locks them inside…

A box in my heart holds a flame.

A flame that is emotion. A flame that is mine.

Thy secrets they go, feed this ember,

make it burn bright, make it burn more.

Bursting! Bursting! Tis’ with flame.

Every secret, whisper, piece of thou,

shared to a listening heart,

feeds the famished flame I believed

to be locked away.

But Altair my star how thy light consumes my heart

When my star is bright I am bright.

When my star is dark I am dark.

And though there may be thousands,

Thine is always shining through.

Muse! I beg thee, let me find the words

the words my tiny boxed flame wishes to burn,

to ignite, to share the feelings deep inside

Altair, though not thy name

Altair, though not who thee are

Altair, how could I not

compare thee to a star.