Thousands of tiny stars

In the palm of your hand

Tonight.

Frightening flesh-eating

Soul-grating ambassadors 

Enlightened by night.

What does it mean in the popular sense?

Tip of your finger

A bit like the flag.

That pulsating field of dead.

Raking up innocence

Stirring up dread

Tonight.

Tiny stars run mistaken

From the palm of your heart

Veering into mine 

Still awake.