By Brian Robertson
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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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