Silent Space...
Fly me to the Moon,
At least somewhere full of stars.
Maybe the dusty red fields of Mars,
The silent night of galaxies,
Too distant to believe,
Too big for the Human race,
The utter quiet,
Pretty lights of outer space.
Maybe this could heal a soul,
The noiseless depths of total cold,
Far away from the battlefield,
These perceived wounds that should've healed.
Sad to see the children we've become,
Maybe growing up is never done,
No end in ragged sight,
Forever twisted between dark and light,
So they say lest we assume,
That in the end might Heaven bloom,
Sprung from constant dreams of doom and gloom.
They say it's fated in our stars,
Even driving Mars in electric cars,
To endlessly battle for control,
No respite in depths of the soul,
Dreams of rapture seal the wait,
Held in hope at Heaven's gate.
Maybe this could heal a soul,
The noiseless depths of total cold,
Far away from the battlefield,
These perceived wounds that should've healed.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/05/2020
#Sci-Fi #Political #Poetic Philosophy