They look down
from the darkness,
the vast emptiness
that advances
on its elliptical dance
through the void. They glance
upon the grand orb. Shining
in the sunlight cast.
Great stretching landmass of
sand, grass. The asphalt bypass.
The marble they see.
A ball of concrete and sea,
areas of green, being churned,
burned away so quickly.
This spherical world
of me, me, me.
They watch as we
fire our rockets
uncontrollably.
Atomic skylines drawn over
shocked eyes.
The rockets fly,
a bloom of mushrooms
attend the ball,
consuming one and all.
The eyes watch in dismay,
pulsing out of sockets.
Wait a minute, they say,
What the fuck!
How can we ever return
to a world
of radioactive dust.
A glance across
the room in mistrust.
Russian, American,
enemy nations
on one lone
desolate space station.
Over the ruins below.
The smoke still blows
but the fear
of the unknown,
bellows into the wind,
the distrust
of those who pin
somewhere else
on the map, as home.
Still fear resides
in those last lone
human bones.
All the birds have flown.
But still war looms
in starry eyes.
For the stars and stripes they cry.
Russia, till we die, the reply.
Still, they want to end lives.
Behind the moon
the aliens sigh.
Watching the destruction,
too bad, they say
to the unmoving sky.
They could never learn,
they could have been
a useful ally.
Into the grand
cosmos they fly
The ruined planet
just a graveyard
to the question why.
Thanks for reading
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