Echo of a Waning Star

Here a star falls down
Drifting slowly to the ground
Calloused fingers stained with rust
Heavy with ash and dust

Evening sky looks down
Shadows crawling to the ground
Weary fingers worn to the bone
Harrowed by distant throne
Marching over the barren fields
Bound by shackles of iron and steel
No salvation for wandering eyes
Toiling on the line
Withering on the vine

Here a star falls down
Drifting slowly into the ground
Calloused fingers chained to the stone
Praying for morning sun