Shooting stars of love

Maybe our alignment is planetary,  shooting for star of love, while grounded in hypocrisy which arrows rose above. Maybe some day you'll realise not all feelings possess a person's heart, I'm looking at an empty canvas,  throwing knives instead of art , what if we weren't destined , but designed to be recluse,  has the body a sanctuary rather than a use. I've Been mortified about endings,  I want forever and a day, but rather felt as if internally,  your monstrosity had it's way, calve the apple into pieces,  sheer resemblance of a vice, I've looked into the great unknown,  and left by good advice,  sometimes love is beckoned to save the other soul, burried in the trenches of a large and gaping hole,  I'm not that saviour,  I'm not that grand or grace, but I know the angels sing, when looking at your face .