In the year of Two-Thousand and Eight, I gaze across a yellow desert haze, of residence.
Every year the planet grows, more and more alien, and the haze grips us in.
We bow solemnly to the growing urge, and throw our hands in the air.
Rejoicing together, we make the days to remember,
for when the sun is instead burning our hands,
and our screams of joy turn into cries of searing pain, as the brief yellow haze,
breathes us in fire, and blows us all into deepest space, and finally,
we are forced to be one.

As we were supposed to live on Earth, we shall be forced together and hurled,
Into the infinite possibilities on quantum, cosmic, mechanic space.
To live divided and die together will be our fate,
Never to take advantage, of the Universal “Us”.