The Stellar Shadow in the Lake

Deep night, the lake is silent, still,
an ink-black mirror beneath a muted sky.
No breath breaks its known quietude,
just a shadow unveils, a faint sorrow.
No flame alight remains, no passion’s heat,
the star once brilliant and complete.
It has fallen, its splendor now undone,
lying deep below, serene, and gently spun.
A silver trace, an ethereal veil,
its profile stretches on the placid trail.
A silent memory, almost a mystery,
which the lake in its deep heart accepts entirely.
And thus the lake, guardian of dark repose,
tells without a voice of stories old and slow.
Of heaven’s fragment, of eternal oblivion,
a dimmed glow, a secret deep within.