There are planets without suns,
Hurtling through space in total darkness.
In the remarkable nowhere,
A sum gather to decide remuneration,
Orbiting the celestial campfire.
A vocabulary of comets,
Wearing bejeweled moons.
The wealthiest afforded rings,
Tidal forces pulling on their lesser cousins.
Their shouts streak blue tails,
smash to the surface,
precious dust mushrooms into negative spaces.
Mars, the red worker,
Millennia's bearer of the propagating ordeal,
Urinates every drop of fluid,
Passing on its humans,
To arrogant Earth.