Comfort

I look up to wonder
The moon pulsing with the reaching fervor of the sun
Possibility contained by points of light
Scattered
Ablaze with creativity
Scratching at the skin of their confines
Desperate to become creation
A dark, vast emptiness
Saturated with the possibility
Of the wonderfully complex unknown

I look around a graveyard
The final resting place
Of the limitless
Now cold
Night sky
Creativity lost in the mind of conformity
Inspiration defeated by routine
The once innocent nature of determination
Extinguished by comparison
The quest
For the illusive mystery
Behind the beating heart
And the birth of each day
Slips slowly through the cracks
Of the comfort of life