Our fragile lives mean to exist
To traverse the exosphere;
To reach the sky with all our might,
Fatalities we tear.
We live to save and to redeem
Men from the darkness and their fears.
A gnarly looking metal box
In which each soul must reside
To pierce the heavens up above
With buttons and levers pied.
Collectively sent out to space
As bearers of love and pride.
But still the matter does not change,
That we have been left alone.
Across the emptiness we stride,
And our own souls we hone
To endure each day that passes-
Indeed, our hearts have grown!
And as we propel into space
In these metal inventions,
A trail of steam is left behind
Comprised of our abstractions
Of how our fragile lives exist
For human satisfaction.
It's tough.
