Poem-A-Day: Day 440

Star

Waiting for stars,
showering down universe
falling hard.

A fiery hidden satellite; 
a laser
shooting shiny tongue war.
Tell pure as heaven flowers
whose waiting for the showering.
 
Falling down to look
real somewhere,
the wrapped palm
with wrath and thunder,
pleasure to know.

Beauty somewhere pure,
as money worship,
hands are rolling rose glow.

The city in pink Armageddon
Did you leave
and take for granted
war disenchanted,
war pure?

Pure heaven sent money
sent flowers for whose hands
waiting for stars
showering down, 
universe falling.