I’ve been flying too long,
Dizzily spinning through life on Mars,
They say flying is a luxury not many get,
Never saying how you’ll feel so alone.
Drifting in and out of time by our own devises,
Set and match the prices.
‘I come in peace’
Funny how I’ve found a strange place and have to validate my intentions to myself,
No one else.
I am the foreigner,
But I never wished to be ever so distant,
Distant from you.
I’m on that space-mind continuum,
Never to be heard from.
One thing I dream of,
Is to one day reach complete, entire freedom.
Funny how a place so far away can remind you of all that you felt back home,
Calling it Stockholm syndrome.
I’m trapped by my own ideals,
having me viciously get at me.
Flying 10,000 lightyears;
get me out of here!
Out from the childhood’s gapping mouth.
Every possibility that I saw infant of me has thus far played out,
Now what is it that I am all bout?
Hear it and call me out,
Trapped in the blackhole and I don’t know where I’m coming out.
If you get this transmission;
Tell them put me out of commission.
I’m too much of a rebel to be dabbling in all this rubble.
I want to find a bed of flowers to rest my head in.
Daisies; maybe pansies.
This is what they call real living,
With no immediate thoughts,
Floating on with no gravity to weigh me down.
Static rings through the abandoned spaceship;
Away in the distance you see me.
Flower pedals surround me in the serenity of space and stars.
Found a bed to then rest my heavy head.