Causa Sui Generis(Slumber of Children or Modern Mythos)

"In thy breast are the stars of thy fate."

----Schiller, Wallenstein.

When we speak of stars it must be known, to all below
their lustre, the innumerable tiaras, crowns, and laurels
the proud have decked brows with have fallen from heaven. 

We cannot maintain with straight faces that the crowned have 
lifted their heads midst the stars. Their raiment is far less lustrous 
than the sheetless night lovers twine beneath.

Logic lends itself to bursts of calculated effusion, like lilies bloom
off the graded edge of a paved road.

Peel away dream. The dream a few moments
of sunlight never fails to erode.

All measure mirrors cosmology.

Cosmogonies sublimated by oblivious dreamers.