The City is dead.
But yet a means to a beginning.
The others squander,
With attempts at resurrection,
Or petty secrets.
But we are Astro-Mercenaries.
We see a purpose in the Death.
A light in the Darkness.
We deny Ourselves passage
On the back of a decrepit God;
Cowering in the remnants of its dying light.
We take hold of Our own destiny.
Rather than reliving the glories
Of days of future passed,
We tear down these monuments to our sins
And turn their “Golden” artifacts
Into the cosmic fleet of a new Orbit.
A Dead Orbit.
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TL;DR