(no subject)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_pale_ghost_/]

Ghost rested his cheek against the observation window, forehead on the cool, clear glass, head hurting today. He watched the starscape, marveled. Fields of brilliant stars, in constellations, in galaxies, looking through the smudgy window.

Waiting. Not for the destruction of those stars, burning brightly, but for the creation of those stars again.