It's like we conquered the whole world,
the frontiers remaining only those forged by man
and left the rest of us without homestead
destination and, instead, gave us only home.
Not that the splendor of silicon isn't grand,
not that the charted and developed territories
aren't worth of thanks-on-high,
and not that Mars being dragged within
the grasp of man
was maligned,
yet somehow -
Something seems to be missing,
some survival element of the equation subtract,
some mystery gone vacant.
It's like the only thing
that could ever kill me
is myself.
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