The last of the living have crawled to corners.
There is no wanting, there is no giving,
there are no mourners.

The winds now move the remains.
The memory of what happened,
has disappeared with all records of the names,
pushing them across the desert plains.

With some pressure, this life ball had left it’s place,
moving to a more comfortable spot.
This sentenced all life to leave without a trace,
and the living met death, face to face.

So let this one go, let them die, for they decided their fate,
and gone too far.
Lay this ball to rest among the other lifeless eight,
which circle the nearest star.