The burnished, metallic gears transmitted torques and the 
cerulean plasma infected the skylines as they departed. 
The mortars of the firmaments snarled as stewards ceased 
to sojourn over the orb of parched bitumen. Behold the 
majestic exodus of sacrosancts, the meek elites of 
amethyst garments. The crystal bodies no longer coalesced 
and chaos did not reign like in primordial wasteland. The 
ambivalent anima of a once substantial, but now decayed 
structure barely resonated through the black veils of the 
nearly desiccated rifts. Messenger coils had perished 
long before mountains plunged and glaciers thawed and 
evaporated. Her autonomy was never subservient, but her 
beauty was always vulnerable. Upon the scarlet moon, our 
bereavement was silent. In recollections her splendor 
will remain untouched. Through bitter voids, revered 
vagrants now wend in hunt for unsullied, verboten 
paradise to despoil. Boundless, extraterrestrial deserts 
are not of lands christened barren. Unfamiliar, desolate 
realms define places for the brave to flourish. The 
keepers of the testaments till a flawless design: future 
dwellings vehemently founded upon misleading wisdom. 
Cocooned the children will be in the faith of a 
disingenuous manger. The states of hell will be 
reincarnated. Oh Gliese, your heavens will be ephemeral, 
but also worth being cherished. Deflowered you'll be, 
swiftly and unrelentingly. Their hands will not be gentle 
when you are deflagrated. In recollections your spirit 
will remain untouched.