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mrgrinmore — Letter 6: August 1st, 2068
Published: 2014-08-02 06:19:11 +0000 UTC; Views: 136; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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13th Landing RoadOlympus Mons Colony,
Mars Colony
MA-00001
1st August, 2068
My dear friend P,
Your breath is concrete
But still you have room to breath
While I suffocate
The great red expanse
Of rock, sand and frigid air
Still has open skies
The stars here are dull
Sparkle hazed, no glint or shine
Radiance stolen
Let my voice guide you
Keep you safe until the day
Pastures green we test
If death shall take me
Whilst seeing what you now see
I can only dream
To be without you
Without the ache of the world
What use are my words?
The days bleed out gray
Each fading from one to next
Nothing breathing lives
We are but shambling
Savages drugged by nothing
But vapid boredom
If sinking you are
Pull me from the bleak waters
In which we shall drown
I am no beacon
I am an anchor to stay
Shackled alone and gray
Let us patch each other
Let us mend and bind ourselves
Our hearts and our minds
We shall leave the dead
Those walking, breathing wretches
Too loud, too silent
Yes! We shall explore
The war god's rusted kingdom
You and I, dear friend
From one still packed in the city,
S.
