A trillion years for light to reach,
But I sense them every instant.
In the Milky Way on a pale blue dot,
The creature of contradictions.
My senses run wild, my being possessed
By this race of cosmic demons.
I see their future, I see their past,
Their endless, futile existence.
In all my searches, never have I found
A race that slaughters each other
Not for food or for survival,
But for money, fame, and power.
Their morals are rather convenient,
Tolerant as required, or ruthless.
They find honour in war and death,
But salvation in acts of kindness.
The mysterious unknown upsets them;
They turn chaos into patterns and charts,
Equations to domesticate nature,
And maps to tame the stars.
Yet when fear grips their hearts
In earthquakes, floods, or wars,
At these very stars they look up for hope,
Praying desperately to imaginary gods.
They have conquered their moon and will reach the stars;
Such are their relentless minds.
They scour the cosmos in search of a home,
Leaving their old one behind.
In this amusing madness of dilemmas,
They never quite seem to fathom
That they are trapped in a vicious loop
Where their minds are working against them.
Power or friendship, God or science?
The comfort of home, or freedom?
Maybe that’s what makes them so peculiar,
Maybe that’s what makes them human.
They are explorers, nurturers, angels, and saints,
And whimsical agents of destruction.
In the Milky Way on a pale blue dot,
The creature of contradictions.
