There isn’t a single voice from deep space, proclaiming
Its vastness and grandeur, every heavenly body bows down
To its fundamental laws, that’s the power of silent humility
A portable universe is carried by everybody, on a temporary lease
For us to use and enjoy, but the voice box of the mind
Full of throaty thoughts, proclaims with a conceited tone
Rippling through the mind, a sense of ownership over time
The body isn’t won through a hard fought battle
But a chance gift, a vehicle whose engines we have scuttled
Making it an empty shell, echoing praises and airing dreams
Now a seat of conceit, but the sky laughs, one day our bodies
Will melt into the muddy terrain, restoring the quiet calm, in place of us
