Among the Stars #7

Blast through to the stars,
it seems that life is special.
What is theirs, and what is ours,
defines our survival instincts so crucial.
That is life among the stars.

Ships hewn of rock or of gold,
sail untold years in heavenly clouds.
Ships the size of small worlds yet untold,
voyage through piercing purple shrouds.
That is life among the stars.

At some distant point we encounter our brethren.
We then expand and share across the cosmic ocean and rivers.
Then the day comes that we deny what we call death-in.
Then the day comes that we wage war on our allies and shiver.
That is life among the stars.

Our warships contain no projectiles but piercing blades
that decisively decommision the ships from old friends.
Just as the old days, when after battle, men went home to their maids,
but the next day the former allies meet on the battlefield once again.
That is life among the stars.

Then the day comes when all the wars cease
and the day shall come when men fail to overcome
and the day then arrives that Man will not live but be deceased
and the day when our enemies will rejoice and kill with pun,
and so will end life among the stars.