An outcast to both asteroid and creator alike,
truly, you are alone out there.
further and further you stray from the start,
till final transmission we dearly depart.
Onward you march with such haste,
your job is done, why rush?
You're gone forever in all of your art,
as will we be in body and heart.
A wilted flower lies upon a gravestone,
sober and still it glares you to unease.
Time will never relent,
for rich nor poor.
I sit there with the faint breeze tantalizing the dead leaves
to flutter a final dance, and perchance, live again.
For a time, i'm overcome with all of mortality,
but we must remiss, my dear, we simply must,
Jack and Heather could last forever under his veil of hope,
but reality spites with quarrel and fights,
and Heather's strained all she can cope.
Now she's gone with a man named John and life could never get better,
and Jack slumps back to his lowly shack and scrawls this forlorn letter...
"I'm sorry my love, i'm such a fool; you deserve a life of mirth!"
Gone forever, my life forever, cover me over with earth.
— The End —