Crooked Wooden Sunset
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Two moons above, one sun below
The winters are dark, and the summers cold
Solar winds guide our ship to roam
Into voids of black, left behind no home
There is no sky, nor painted life
Silence tells more than the dead would like
And each of us lay tattered and worn
From this journey to nowhere, but forever sworn
To sail the night, the sky and stars
And sing the songs of our internal wars
Safe and sound