Canals lie void of water in the dust, Reality inside the schizoid mind? Beneath each man a horrible machine; On Mars the only men of wisdom say:
This is the dream…to stand here and see this:
See old men die wrapped up in tubes and rust.
A home on Mars. Beyond it, space, abyss.
Through blight and death, decrepitude and mold,
A child alone to future isn’t blind.
His madness lets him see himself grow old.
At least that’s how the world begins to feel.
Harrowing decay, veiled behind a screen
Am I tripping? Or is this arrow real?
“Gubble, gubble, gubble, time rots away.”
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