All Hallows' Star
We who stand on the outer hull
of this starship, bearing apples
and replicated hazelnuts as offering,
have no saints to celebrate
as we orbit this dying blue giant—
space knows only martyrs
We mourn for those who stepped
into the shadow of the lonely void
but lost their way, untethered
We mourn for those who disappeared
when meteors destroyed the bridge
in celestial vengeance
We mourn for those who tried to fix
the thrusters, and died in fire
bright enough to rival Mother Star
We mourn for those who climbed
against the asymptotic well of gravity
but failed, infinitely crushed
And we mourn for those who,
distraught by all the death, tried to wrest
control of the ship from we believers
We cast our offerings outward
some of the apples gravitate
toward the bodies we tossed from airlocks
We who stand on the outer hull,
in the shadow of the lonely void
with celestial vengeance
bright enough to rival stars,
mourn for those who climbed
to wrest this ship from us
we cast our offerings outward.
Space knows only martyrs.