Eighth Sphere

Reach for Neptune.
Scream those words for all to hear.
It is all that has to matter my dear.

Being fashionable is so contrived.
Soon the meteroite will have arrived.
Looming larger upon the horizon.
No one said that I despise them.
They’re just words to drive a wedge.
Much rather be descending on a sledge.
Down the slopes of brilliant snow.
No this is not a metaphor though.
Read too deep you’ll be disappoined.
Human minds are so very disjointed.
Organisation is not what it should be.
Success with it requires a degree.

Reach for Neptune.
Scream those words for all to hear.
It is all that has to matter my dear.

Take things serious it will hurt.
May even render you inert.
Querying what matters least.
When you should be busy with a feast.
A thirst for knowledge and progress.
Yes your mind like mine is a mess.
But wouldn’t you rather be alive?
Then be sifting through this quagmire.
It’s spreading fast and you’re sinking slow.
Sooner or later it will cut your flow.
Leave you only with; it’s all gone.
In that there is not an ounce of fun.

Reach for Neptune.
Scream those words for all to hear.
It is all that has to matter my dear.