Twas,
aliens which,
seek to destroy,
the earth.
Aliens,
which shall,
reign fire,
upon each soul,
absent a cent.
Be this,
the reason,
for external movement?
The,
reason these beings,
seek this cent,
each second,
of their anomalistic existence?
For,
be I,
absent the ability,
to conjure up,
a more plausible reason.
Oh,
be these aliens,
seeking souls,
covered in gold?
Be they,
seeking to know each,
tethered to,
self importance?
Each,
which deem themselves,
more?
Wonder,
I do.
For,
such seems,
true.
Seems,
aliens we be here,
at noon...
©yungb123
Y