The pulsing,
the throbbing
of the magic orb
beckons me
downward.

The sun set early
quaking in fear
at the prospect
of my appearance.

The moon is nothing
but a faded memory.

The sky is lit up
by my entrails.

I crash land

exploding into your fertile spaces,
becoming a spectacle,
becoming a god.

I am a rock.
I am a star.
I am a rock star

baby.