A rocket blasting up towards the void
Carrying with it the hopes of a nation.
A dream felt by our fathers:
The west now up in new expansion.
Seven are chosen and seven single sighted go
Up, up without hesitation and only one regret.
Loves left on the ground to watch their joy.
Hand holds hand, lip bitten: A singular fret.
What about the booster and the vast fuel?
The worry creeps in, the fire shakes their cool.
How is it that we are doing this witchcraft?
It might very well be that a scientist is a fool.
Ozone shoots in plumes and fountains,
Such violence harnessed in a simple machine.
What have we done? Seven times seventy
And all those eyes with a saddened sheen.
But, for the sake of our portion in the skies
And an upward desire manifested in each of us
We must continue and claim the heavens
As a statement of all things glorious.
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