My Journey is not yours

Nobler than thou; hardly my dear, but so much older

I, so old to you now that when your world was young,
I was ripe for a dotage held within this crumbling edifice
That creation is now alas, a remnant of more elegant times
But there was never an era when red dragons rode the air
Nor of princes, elves or wizards righting all the wrongs
I am afraid we did all that you enjoy now without help
Though we may have desperately wished for it at times
This new avaricial beat of the world; I understand not
It never held any rhythmic sway over us then, but for you
It chimes in all you do; becomes the song of your existence
So look not into my life now its pool of stars is fading
Open up the night and make a wish on your own star