His friends and family pleaded with him,
Begging him not to undertake this task.
He wiped tears from his eyes, dreading goodbye,
But gazed at the star atop the mountain.
Celestial and great, the star sole for him,
He took hold of the craggy rock, and climbed.
Halfway up, the bright star in blessed sight,
He climbed with newfound strength, needing his prize.
Yet hailstorms brewed, flinging dark fire and ice,
The man bombarded by nature’s fury.
Armageddon itself manifested,
Tearing the sky, rendering the heavens,
Yet the fire in his soul put flame to shame,
His heart far stronger than all of Hell’s wrath.
Brow drenched in sweat, muscles screaming in pain,
He rested his ragged body and slept
Upon a cliff, and looking down below,
He heard the melodious sound of joy.
It came from his home, sheltered, warm, and safe,
But under the joy lay such deep sorrow
Which stemmed from them not chasing their own stars.
Unwilling to conform, he rose to stand,
With righteous valor raging within him.
His iron will fighting against the world,
He tore down the mountain and quelled the storm.
Then, with one hand, he grasped with intense need
And took hold of his own glorious star,
His only goal, his sove’reign destiny.