so long, voyager
these cacophonous prophets will never stop
stained glass, machine dash, paint smock
all gone at atomic dawn
brown vein, moon bound brain, silver spoon
all gone at siren song
bullet crime, ivory mind, cathedral hall
we are one at sol’s kingdom fall
are you more than a driftwood tin can last ditch trip?
a library, archive, or crypt?
a gold disk dead record’s call, extinction stuck on skip?
oh, voyager! I fear the worst!
with the constant cogs cracked
the celestial sanhedrin slayed
and sol’s carbon kids decayed
you too will find your grave
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
I hope that one day some intelligent species will find those golden discs, but the realist in me thinks the voyagers are doomed to the same fate as us, both as individuals and a civilization. Our spacecraft will outlive us all, but in the end every human on earth, from all walks of life, and our spacecraft will succumb to death and a return to nothingness.
Trevor Graham is a student currently studying philosophy and delivering pizza for tuition. Born, raised, and residing in Syracuse, New York. Skeptic, humanist, and space exploration advocate. He lives to see humans survive and travel the stars.