Written in the stars
a message just for me.
You always ask me why
I'm stuck staring at the sky.
They're blinking up there to tell me the Truth:
immortality exists for the masses,
a beautiful tragedy for the individual me.

When one ant dies,
you still groan over the colonies' persistence,
even while they process
that pour soul to his grave.

When one stars goes out,
you still gasp at the sky on a clear night,
saying there couldn't possibly be anymore out there.

Well I may die my own woman,
and I may make my mark on this world,
but someone will be looking down on us
when my colors fly,
remarking on the endurance of the human race.