A love letter to destiny, a suicide letter to fate.

A lone bright star in the Northern hemisphere,
Arcturus shines.
Sheathed in tales immune to the tides of time,
Icarus was never a caution to fear;
In truth, he was a tragic hero of mine.
A testament to the insatiability of earth’s core
An ascent born from idealism.
Dreadful is the lust of the seventh heaven,
A morsel of ecstasy,
Bound forever to gravity’s sadism.
The scent of everblooming flora,
Lingering in the soul’s taste,
Painted over fiercely in black,
Haunted helplessly,
By our own phantom’s attack.
Agony is resistance’s child
As it’s shackles smirk.
Phoenixes survive,
But their shadows forever lurk
Scars of rebirth inscribed,
On the blade of the sword.
Maps are for destinations
But Arcturus is a sanguine maze.
It lives on scorching fire,
Untouchable by its own blaze.
Telescopes tease us with an illusion–
It will never be near
Time keels to tales;
Daedalus’ labyrinth is a gambit,
I hear Theseus’ bellowing cheer.
The celestial signature is frozen;
Fate never lies.
Still, I wish on the dead star,
To fuse with the reverie,
Gleaming in the night skies afar.
Arcturus (Poem) © 2025 by Katerina Mouromtseva is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
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