Beautiful—this strange place is,
with such colorful memories, a true kind of bliss.
As if kissed by an archaic wish upon a star,
a fluorescent light glowing in ancient space,
forever looked upon by wandering eyes—
that which lies beneath the crescent moon,
upon this celestial rock we’ve grown to call our home.
While life here shall always and forever bloom,
until forever becomes nothing more, nothing less—
another distant memory, a theory at best.
But as each precious moment is sewn in time,
embraced by the many, appreciated by few,
altogether broken by many humans, too—
you should know that I have nowhere else to go,
because deep down, this celestial planet—
my world—shall always be my home.
