Rap – The Lost Star (Part 1/6 of The Lost Star)

Note: this is part one of a series of raps (called 'The Lost Star') that, read together, tell an overarching story. Despite this, it's also readable as a standalone piece.

[Verse 1]

Lost in this new world you're hurled in it's scary,
Adversaries at every area, ain't sure who's an enemy,
Not wrong to be weary, if only you knew your fate,
You'd exude your confidence and realise the hero they made,
Purple designation seethes over the orange sky beneath,
Stardust melodies interweave the never ending sea,
Destiny intervenes the temptation of fallacy,
Your legacy a war between seeking peace and tempting tragedy,
Decimate charades, they'll parade on that which you've slain,
Slayed shams and pain, they'll take champagne in your name,
Hang on every statement you say, the hardest game you've played,
Was the walkway now they take the path that you've paved,
Showed those who spited you and made you demean your self worth
That you're the epitome of what it means to be on this Earth,
So as the crimson skies fly and the sun shines in your victory,
Recognise you're who defied strife and cemented your history


How can I reach for the stars when the sky's the limit?
How can I be a star when there's no constellation I fit in?
When it's all finished, can I say that I made it?
Or will I remain a lost star, eternally fading?

[Verse 2]

She lies in her flat alone,
The sole sign of life is the fan's drone and the cold,
The light left long ago, the night is all she knows,
Nothing beyond that, no one will even call her phone,
Try to retreat to sleep but in your dreams the demons follow ya,
But they don't get the chance to beat, defeat her ‘cause she has insomnia,
Spend hours a night staring at her eyelids,
They rise sometimes to glare again at her ceiling,
Eyes always red, it's a stretch to call them blue,
‘Cept she's always blue so if eyes show the soul then it's true,
Keep fighting through the tight parts of her reality,
Tryna tell herself there's bright spots to her nocturnality,
It's overrated to be underrated,
That's why she'd rather be overhated than never rated,
Except the latter's her fate and, damn, she can't face it,
So faded from the pain, that's why she's inebriated,
Being nocturnal is an eternal inferno,
Burning holes in her internal, till she turns old,
But when your body clock is off and a ticking bomb of time
How long till it ignites and sets alight a nonfinite white light?
She takes a night walk, the baggage of her life
Is symbolised by the bags beneath her eyes,
Only light that shines is the sidewalks’ mirror of the sky,
The moonlight the only sign of other life,
Sights set on envisioning visions of being a literary visionary,
But she was blindsided by this cynic city and its increasing obituary,
Her figment depicted it picturesque, pictured less scary,
Every citizen wishing to rip your ligaments, then bury,
She'd like to think her memorial site would be a memorable sight,
That she'd die a star and shine beside the burial sites she's buried by,
But if she doesn't deny her wasted time mediocrity is where she'll lie,
Reside as a normal life who succumb to the fight

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