No Translator for My Soul
By M. Allshouse
A cosmic body looking to land
Feeling entirely alien among men
An ethereal being not meant for this world
I speak a language that’s ancient—
Few have heard it,
Fewer understand.
No translator for my soul’s expedition
Charted to traverse this galaxy,
Aching for understanding.
Pain from the inability to communicate
The way my psyche collides
With the terrain of society—
Like a meteor crashing brutally into Earth.
Causing waves of extinction
To my own moral standing.
A cataclysmic event.
An approaching apocalypse
Of everything righteous
I once held in my mind.
Look into my skies—
You might see decisions
Shaded in grey,
Almost aurora-like:
A monumental glow
Only witnessed in person
By those brave enough
To meet me there.
Translator Found
By M. Allshouse
A cosmic body
Looking to land
In the atmosphere of my astronomical need
Starlight in your eyes
And stardust on your lips
Slicing through me
Until my soul bleeds
Do you understand
That our love is like two galaxies
Destined to collide—
Burnt up in meteor and ash
As passion becomes a nova flare in the skies
I don’t need astronomers
To map the constellations along your horizon
I have them memorized
Like ancient texts meant only for me
The universe is such a vast expanse
Of empty black matter
Sucking us in toward oblivion—
But next to you,
Nonchalance is my candor
Because if our love
Is the beginning and end of existence as we know it,
Then let the big bang occur
And spawn new life
As time has proven