Tempting my tired eyes to sleep.
Memories of pleasures, small earthbound joys.
Blistering and blasting my family to God.
A heart setting its dead to rest.
Hope drains with nothing left to hold.
Goodbye to the soil from which I grew.
Pulled impossibly to a dream of an old world.
Screams and cries light the dark night.
No longer on, but in and all alone.
Shades of brown flotsam at Europa’s edge.
The last thing I see with tired eyes.