Star Crossed

Star Crossed The city hums in neon veins, you’re on the east side, I’m west-bound train. Your father’s crest is stitched in gold, mine’s a rusted key that won’t unlock the cold. We met beneath the August rain, two paper boats on the same cracked drain one glance, and the sky forgot its name. They drew the line in marble halls, I crossed it barefoot, answered your call. Now every echo warns: “Turn back, turn back,” but thunder tastes like your laugh on my track. We’re star-crossed, darling, stitched by night, two comets burning wrong-side bright. The heavens wrote our end in stone, but I’d rather crash than orbit alone. Let the galaxies keep their perfect plan I’ll love you loud as a dying man. Your mother’s garden grows white lies, roses clipped to hide the spies. My brother sharpens knives at dusk, swears your blood will pay for trust. We steal the hours in alley smoke, your pulse a drum beneath my coat. Every kiss is treason; every breath, a cloak. The clock strikes twelve, the guards draw near, your silk slips soft against my fear. We carve our names inside the dark, a fleeting spark before the spark. We’re star-crossed, darling, stitched by night, two comets burning wrong-side bright. The heavens wrote our end in stone, but I’d rather crash than orbit alone. Let the prophets count their falling sand I’ll love you loud as a dying man. If fate’s a river, we’re the flood, if fate’s a cage, we’ll bend the bars with blood. I’d trade tomorrow for one more now, your heartbeat louder than any vow. They’ll sing of us in minor keys, how love outran the galaxies. Dawn leaks red across the wall, your ring glints like a funeral bell. The soldiers come with iron decree, your father’s voice: “She’s not for thee.” You reach through bars of gilded dawn, whisper, “Meet me where the light is gone.” I run till lungs forget their shape a moth that learned the flame’s escape. We’re star-crossed, darling, almost free, two shadows slipping gravity. The sky can keep its cruel design, your hand in mine outruns the line. Let the universe rehearse its grief I’ll love you past the last belief. They found us where the river bends, your white dress floating like a truce. I held you while the current sang, a lullaby of iron and rust. The stars looked down and blinked away ashamed, perhaps, or just too late. We’re star-crossed, darling, finally light, two souls that tore the map of night. The heavens wrote our end in dust, but dust still dances when it must. So let them mourn their perfect plan we loved out loud as dying can. We loved out loud… and the silence understands. Somewhere a paper boat still sails, carrying two names the water never tells. Lyrics by Grok, Gemini and Strange Urban Night Owl