You're deep asleep in the dead of night, assuming all the stars are bright. Your astrology thoughts are entirely wrong, as they actually party all night long. The constellations get drunk and stupid and fight, like Draco the Dragon, snorting fire and might!
Sharpening his claws after committing a crime, Draco was roaring for a really good time. He's never been good at holding his gin, so he struck up a fight with a fang filled grin. The small bear next door, Little Dipper was him. Ursa Minor's his name, Ursa Major's his kin. His brother is larger and grander and bold, but Great Bear was not there, Minors fate seemed forteold.
The galaxy was supernova, smashed on cosmic drink. Like a black hole of the mind, they were blind and could not think. The universe unfair, from the time of which it started. Violence was to end, the life the Dipper charted. Draco began attack, and no one had the back, of the poor bear Ursa Minor, now sporting his first shiner.
But Little Bear was clever, from his days out in the woods. He knew that he could hide, at least protect the goods. He sidestepped big dumb dragon, moving nearer to his belly. Draco never looks down there, he thinks it's far too smelly. So there he sits, relaxed and hides, forever pleased, just to reside.
A zodiac king thinks drinking, fighting, f*cking... while a noble little bear, is laying back and yucking. At the differences of wit, between the smarter and the twit. When you are busy sleeping, and your light is never lit.