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