Agony

Even the gloomy eyes of the stars would agree
If I say that the hands of certainly reached me
For as they waited patiently in the blue
For that wonderer to throw them a glance
I work so hard and pure
So warm and so true,
For as the sailors sail their way to unsure fate
I raised myself to pick the sweetest fruit
Of that so-called victory.
Yet, I still need to shut my eyes
To feel the bitter prize of my continuous
agony…