Often confusing

Jeremy

A wisp of air floating by in space,
Debris knocking by, no sound, no taste.

This is mission control.

Distress 101 recieved.

Please stand by for rescue vessel in ETA 4 hours.

Hope of a dying sun, my heart,
Steers me forward, yet the sun,
Behind me shines, illuminating wreckage,
No input, only waves to float free.

Do you copy?

But oh to be so close to home,
I wish I could fall, not float,
In empty orbits, around a hollow shell.
To challenge the gods, they said

Hğšřđ hģğw§§.

I wonder if static was ever music once,
Before the clash of base and treble.
Am i now static, awash in space,
A satellite now, unbroken for a few more days.

Minutes left I suppose,
I live as of now, and forever more,
In some text or child's brain,
A forgotten fact, a burr in a lions mane.

How cold is cold, I wonder.
I could know now.

......

How much colder can it be,
Than knowing you will never be home.

....we cant..... đfğbč§ß

To challenge the gods they said,
Well, here I am.
Open to thine divine majesty,
Peppered by invisible arrows, falling teeth.

Tis a beaty to realise that there are no suns or planets,
Just life and death,
And life from death,
An immolating sun, her ashes feed,
An ungrateful son, the Earth in all its greed.

And I twist, the locks snap,
Four hours, nay I shall breath the ether,
To challenge the gods they brought me,
Well, challenge them I shall.

This is mission control. The ship is almost there just hang on and we will get ya home allright.

Hello?

Jeremy?

.....