A glimmer in the distance,
An illusion of a spark.
The gloomy water which reflects one misty blood moon
Carries the lone traveler’s boat down a perilous lane.

The traveler is patient.
He entertains himself with an old wives tale,
Sipping sour cans of 19th century soda.
Occasionally, he would glance out
At the quiet lane, in search 
For a two-headed fish or a sickening creature.

It was in his imaginative nature to discover
Hidden mysteries that the world kept uncovered.
He was a nocturnal detective of a kind—
Searching through the mosquito-infected forest,
Gliding upon silent, dark waters…

And on one simple night, no different from any other,
The lone traveler finds the
Stars, amongst the trees.
They were like little fires slowly
Lighting up the entire riverbed.
But like all fires, they began to spread.
But unlike most fires, he found them rather beautiful
To keep in glass jars.

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