A happy story

It was, but... "they did not want to see it or
believe it." Instead, they filled you up like a
book. Stories cover your eyes and move you.

Above: the stars shine--covering you--turning
you inside out. Why? Look around, friend.
Even though it was so admirable, the loud
negative force of energy pulsed shortly and
only shortly after burst in a crowd. You died
loudly: a loud doused flame's death.

But, the sky covered your body. Trust the
star, trust the words, "they offer comfort"?
Yet a stretched canvas controls you. It's not
motivated (not at all by impermanent
motivations). Rather, a judge broods and
schemes like tomorrow will never come "and it
will make your stomach sick".

Or: it will burn a happy story of thousands of
pages--and those pages you love--all the forces
in the world that keep a good book shut, no
more.

Also, the stars that can grant can judge no
more. The judges hence die. Overlooking you
is no negative force: now the stars shine and
cluster elsewhere. You just see their butts on
fire, that's why they are white.