A/N: So there is an episode of Courage: The Cowardly Dog called 'Last of the Star Makers' or something like that and that is where this idea originally comes from. Also, this is where my penname 'Last of the Star Makers' gets its namesake. Hope you like it. When you see the little symbol '' it is denoting a new stanza.
The Last of the Star Makers
Where you alive when they were around?
They would romp in the sky
And play with the clouds
But the thing they enjoyed doing the most
Was creating the stars of the heavens of course.
An arc of a limb
And stars would appear
Filling the skies with their glory
However one day
The humans found out
And here begins our story.
The humans declared, 'We'll hunt them dead
Their skins a good penny will make
Leave none alive
Take all of them down
And the rest,
Burn at a stake.'
So the humans set off
For the skies and the stars
A journey
A great undertaking
Meanwhile in the heavens
So far above
The Makers went on with their making.
The road was long
But the humans kept on
Instilled in their minds shouts of bliss
When others found out
The great deed they had done
'No one the Star Makers would miss.'
Finally they reached
The Land of the Makers
Who welcomed them in
The nasty ole fakers
They drank the food
And ate the drink
And the Makers soon realized
Their mistake.
Full of blood lust
A man struck one down
And other men
Leapt up in fury
The Makers are gentle
Not raised for battle
And could not respond to the angry.
One-by-one the Star Makers fell
It was quite the bloody scene
The young, the old, even the kids
And anyone in between.
The brutal men
Struck them down that day
The Makers could not defend
None of them
Survived the attack
But the story doesn't end.
Because there is one left
So far above
See her in all her esteem
For she is playing
Among planets and stars
A female, a mother, a queen.
Though, not quite a mother yet
For at the moment she's expecting
And she knows not of the fight going on
And her people that she is neglecting.
Once she stops
In the midst of her dance
To glance at her people below
She turns a hand
To wave at them
And give them all a show.
But when she looks down
She sees not a one
Ready to look at her making
And when the stars begin to cry
She knows that her people aren't faking.
The female sees the end of the fight
She watches the ugly men leaving
However the bodies
They left behind
The value they are not believing.
With a shriek of despair
She flings herself down
To rest at the feet of her kind
And when she lands
She finds what's been done
All out of sight
Out of mind.
All her people are dead
She's the last of her kindred
Her being weeps with sorrow
The soil of her land
Is now tainted with red
And she wails until the 'morrow.
Her tears finally dry up
Her thoughts, not of revenge
But of loneliness and pain
She stands to her feet
And then decides
That she'll begin again.
Another great horror
Lays round her feet
'Midst the mangled bodies of dead
For strange upon strange
For wondering too
The stars are falling 'round stead.
They look rather pitiful
Up so close
Their lights are weak and winking
Because in their mourning
They want to be near
The female who was weeping.
Silently she collects
The crying stars
And holds them close to her chest
She takes off for the outer realm
While gathering the rest.
She is the last
The lone Star Maker
She travels on holy ground
Lightly treading among the stars
And often looking down.
Is anyone watching?
Does anyone care?
She is the maker of stars,
The Last of the Star Makers.
--
Thanks for reading!
-lotsm