The sky is deep, the sky is dark,
The light of stars is so **** stark.
When I look up, I fill with fear.
If all we have is what lies here,
this lonely world, this troubled place,
then cold dead stars and empty space . . .
Well, I see no reason to persevere,
no reason to laugh or shed a tear,
no reason to sleep or ever to wake,
no promises to keep, and none to make.
And so at night I still raise my eyes
to study the clear but mysterious skies --
that arch above us, as cold as stone.
Are you there, God? Are we alone?
I do not own this.
