Antoine de Aviator

That soul of wandering, and regretting
That could not sustain space
With what he loved
So flew over deserts to learn the how
And wrote a boy whose mind was his own
Teaching his adult heart to live
No sadder soul have I ever felt more akin
Lost within the short time that he breathed
Passionate for what he knew was necessary
Even if he perished
(He would end this way)
Accepting
Back to the capsule in which his mind dwelled so long
Coaxed through the heavens
To a little planet in the sky.

 

-A. Ault-

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