Abyss of the Guilty Star

Beneath the hush of hollow skies, I drift,
a phantom stitched from all I should have kept.
The stars above—once lanterns, now they shift
to stones that weigh me deeper in regret.
Their light, once kind, now watches with disdain,
while silence folds me in its endless reign.

I carved this wreck from hands once meant to shield,
let fall the glass I swore I’d never drop.
I watched love bloom in fragile, open fields,
then scorched it bare, and never made it stop.
No one to curse but the ghost in my skin—
this ruin blooms from where my guilt begins.

My words were frost, my vows began to fade,
each breath a blade, each truth I bent to bone.
Now in this sea of shadows, where I wade,
no voice will echo back to claim their own.
The sky won’t speak. The moon won’t weep.
I sink too far, too fast, too deep.

But still, I thrash against this aching tide,
a hollow hope clenched tight in battered palms—
That somehow, sorrow might be brushed aside
by penance whispered through a midnight psalm.
I gather stars and string them into prayer,
but even light can’t cleanse the blood I wear.

So here, I vanish, not in flame or sound,
but in the hush where no soul seeks or sees.
No grave, no stone, no trace shall I leave bound—
just one last breath beneath the blackest seas.
Let the world forget me and where I dared to fall,
For silence, at last, will cradle it all.

Tonight, I choose the deep to take me whole—
no songs, no notes, just salt and fading breath.
A final dive where none will count the toll,
where guilt and sea will swallow me in death.
Let the world move on, forget my name—
the stars won’t mourn, and I won’t feel the shame.