Formatted, soiled,
Terraformed, humanized
Harvest of rotating stones
Rebuilt in a welcoming shape
Under the heat of these new suns
Visions of sick skies
Painted with unknown colours
Inhospitable gravities
Thirst of discovery
So much new fields to cultivate
So much power to take
Throwing the alien seed
We're not at home
Submitted to relativity
We are the bad grass
Still, we know nothing
Sliding in vacuum
Can't reach the bounds yet
Close to the step ahead
Feeling sentience out there
Something is waiting
It could hold the universe in a hand

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