Melancholy rises
Nobody will ever feel or see
the distant grace
of a splendor
that never was
So all the sodomy upon which the human beings enjoy their disgrace
Becomes a paradox
We try to be invisible, but in fact, we’ll never be
So many distant planets are tired of us
A complex diagram of fragile behavior
Delineates our sour existence
Now it is evident
We will never become
We will never feel
The solitary presence
Of our ghostly demise
Wagner