The burnished, metallic gears transmitted torques and the
cerulean plasma infected the skylines as they departed.
The mortars of the firmaments snarled as stewards ceased
to sojourn over the orb of parched bitumen. Behold the
majestic exodus of sacrosancts, the meek elites of amethyst garments. The crystal bodies no longer coalesced
and chaos did not reign like in primordial wasteland. The
ambivalent anima of a once substantial, but now decayed
structure barely resonated through the black veils of the
nearly desiccated rifts. Messenger coils had perished
long before mountains plunged and glaciers thawed and
evaporated. Her autonomy was never subservient, but her
beauty was always vulnerable. Upon the scarlet moon, our
bereavement was silent. In recollections her splendor
will remain untouched. Through bitter voids, revered
vagrants now wend in hunt for unsullied, verboten
paradise to despoil. Boundless, extraterrestrial deserts
are not of lands christened barren. Unfamiliar, desolate
realms define places for the brave to flourish. The
keepers of the testaments till a flawless design: future
dwellings vehemently founded upon misleading wisdom.
Cocooned the children will be in the faith of a disingenuous manger. The states of hell will be reincarnated. Oh Gliese, your heavens will be ephemeral,
but also worth being cherished. Deflowered you’ll be,
swiftly and unrelentingly. Their hands will not be gentle
when you are deflagrated. In recollections your spirit
will remain untouched.