Planet silhouetting atlases
of worlds we'll never know.
Their histories repeat,
through mushroom clouds
of soft pink explosions,
crying their fears for us to feel.
We watch them live and die,
admiring the beauty of life and death;
only I weep when light eminates through their wars.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
Planet silhouetting atlases
of worlds we'll never know.
Their histories repeat,
through mushroom clouds
of soft pink explosions,
crying their fears for us to feel.
We watch them live and die,
admiring the beauty of life and death;
only I weep when light eminates through their wars.
Clouds n stuff
