Know this, all you widows pleading,
your sorrow soon will turn to bleeding
as tears of red fall from your eyes
while you search the ungiving skies.
For once a man has touched the stars,
and planets like jewels fill his heart,
you have nothing that can compare,
nothing to draw him from the cosmic dare.
Because the vastness of space is a new kind of ocean,
and its call is felt deep by the adventuring kind.
Mesmerized they'll become by the great silent motion,
and they'll leave everything and everyone else behind.
The inordinant quest stole your companion
and made of your lover a highwayman
who touches galaxies instead of soft earth
and seeks strange treasures of undefinable worth
You think none of this can compare to your love
or the way you once fit, hand in glove.
But his heart has been taken by one stronger than you;
there are no breadcrumbs to follow; there are no clues.
Because the vastness of space is a new kind of ocean,
and its call is felt deep by the adventuring kind.
Mesmerized they'll become by the great silent motion,
and they'll leave everything and everyone else behind.
Please believe no promises or words that seem kind.
They'll wink out like stars in the morning but haunt you at night.
Take no offered hand, and of his touch please beware.
For he has become a ghost in the machine and only seems to be there.
So feel your sorrow in full measure, and then let it go,
ask no more questions and seek answers no more.
Lift up your skirts and continue alone.
Your starfaring man is lost and gone.
