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New World

By Brian Robertson


Travel across the void, On a lightning galley


Tall soaring mountains, Winding steep valleys


Flowing barren waves, Full of cursed sand


Nothing but vast emptiness, An inhospitable land


Cold white sunrise, Sea of red


So far from home, Nature appears dead


Distant bright ruby, Beyond our control


Toward you we reach, With each passing Sol


Long chilling nights, Dust storms of dry rain


Pulsing violet lighting, Hailing stones size of grain


Cool distant starlight, Endless falling stars


What will man see, once standing on mars?


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