[hider=Working Title]

	Working Title

	Poem

	Metal rot, rust and dust,
	safe passage for the ones
	with half a mind to leave
	this desert, this tundra
	of iron oxide and nitrogen
	hydrogen burns on the horizon
	bringing with it
	the fire of day
	and the light of ruin
	red sun
	growing
	red world
	dying

	Could this be a sign?
	Am I to flee?
	Or ought I stay,
	To observe the shade
	Necrosis at a cosmic scope
	Goodbye, my love.
	Goodbye, my home.

	I yet remain.

[/hider]