Why did they come here, the people from the stars?
They certainly left behind their lives,
Their loved ones,
Their peace of mind,
To come and experience our insanity.
How did they get here, the people from the stars?
Was it a rocket,
Or maybe a tesseract,
Or a wormhole?
A fiery trip on a pressurized chariot?
Comparable with nothing we can experience, to be sure.
When did they arrive, the people from the stars?
Was it a month ago, or an age?
Were they at Antioch,
Gettysburg,
Rome or Pompeii?
Did they council Da Vinci,
Einstein,
Oswald or McVeigh?
Which star did they come from, the people from the stars?
Castor, or Pollux?
Arrakis, Regulus or Rigel?
Or was it not a star at all,
But a hidden dark dimension,
Where in is out and near is far,
And maybe there,
Is here?
What did they do here, the people from the stars?
Were they content to simply observe,
Or take the hands on approach,
And direct matters
As they saw fit,
Exchanging Epics
For their own contrivances,
Creating an antiquity
Of their own design?
Where did they go, the people from the stars?
Out there,
Out there, the people of the stars.