Forgive me if I jump...

I'm the trouble ahead,

and I scream in my sleep.

You're putting money on red, 

I'm a sure bet at a losing streak.

I keep showing you doors, 

but you can't open them up.

because it gеts harder to see me,

the closеr you try to look.

Not coming back here anymore...

Now that you're standing right here...

He wondered if some part of him knew what was waiting for him. That he would never be a gentle grower of things, or someone who burned like fire - but that he would be quiet and enduring and as faceted as the night. That he would have beauty, for those who knew where to look, and if people didn't bother to look, but only to fear it, then he didn't particularly care for them, anyway. He wonders if, even in his despair and hopelessness, he was never truly alone. He wonders if he was looking for this place - looking for you all. The people who look at the stars and wish. The stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.