This is the Valley of Dying Stars,
Of broken dreams and cut strings.
In here I no longer dangle
From the uncertainty of my master’s whims.
Instead I fall, fall, fall
After finally pulling free.
The wait to reach the ground
Has got to be the worst,
Since on my way down,
I see nothing but gloom.
Dying stars with wishes clutched in hand,
Broken dreams with their glint fading quick,
And cut strings falling alongside me.
I know not if I will reach the ground
Or fade into nothingness on the way.
I know not if this is the better way
Or if I should still be dangling away.
And so I close my eyes and hope for the best
Here in the Valley of Dying Stars
Surrounded by decay.