Pulsar Colony - Proxima Centauri

Why do they call you our neighbor?
It would take thousands of lifetimes to reach you
I’d set foot on the dry, brown planet
Assuming it’s there
Just to see the rise of three suns
This planet is dead and dark
Surrounded by the billion-year-old vacuum
The infinite indifference
It exposes the God complex
Casts it aside for its folly
We scream out at the vacuum
Where our voices just dissipate
I smell this landfill
Of faulty values
I escape through
The stagnant, icy space between us
I am obsessed
I put the realm of matter
On a pedestal
Because it paints
Colors in the vacuum
Stimulating my senses
So we fly
Keep on drifting
Away from this sun
Towards a new sun
The shapes it takes
Diameters measured in light years
The ultimate natural disaster
The deep freeze
Makes life seem so insignificant
But that’s the answer
To all our struggles
We are the lifeless matter
We are the paradox
Drawing nebulas in the sky with our eyes