I sit, staring at the sky.
My eyes can’t help but turn away from explosive sounds
To visit calm Moon, enclosed by her family of serene stars.

The next emphatic flash goes off.
And unfazed, Moon continues to give peace
Even with neighboring wars.

I picture Hectic Earth as his rotating protector,
Imagining society without even subtle explosions,
Crowded with peace.

I begin to believe being bombarded with tranquility
May yield an overly reserved being.
One who does not fight for what she believes in.
Like a calm star in hopes of shooting away,
She instead sits still in an attempt to keep peace.
Some silent fights are worth being heard.
Some stars are meant to shoot.

I hear worthy fights shooting into the sky,
So I decide to look again
Towards the expressive fireworks.