We are the feeble parasite permeating chaos across our host. Do yo, can you contest? All in your ploy to outshine the kings before you, you've left your mark for sure. Squandering every resource to replace with our waste. Thousands of satellites circle us, earths own planetary ring.
Your assets proved avarice as we unfasten from our axis. No trail of the nine, no black dotted lines. still hands cusp as the last solstice staggers. We must escape.
A thine blue line surrounds us, purging through cloud membranes. Brilliant freckles envelop our majestic icon. Floating up here, we are safe from our world below. Rendered by cosmic turbulence, I am the seed traveling for the ground. A stalwart symbol in hope for life. In hope for humanity.