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.