Great Space

Pompous language suggests I suffer from you,
Let us with them burden others for the words.
Sun and stars gather at night to meet the day,
Never do stars suffer from the eyesight,
None pass their periods in waiting.
The planets orbit the twigs called multiple suns,
Catch their glare all around in the vacuum.
Space is an offering of great aid
To the non-believers, the believers.
May pomposity be attacked by aliens
If we can not defend ourselves.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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