Faded Line

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Faded Line


Think of the rivers of blood spilled
By all those generals and emperors so
That in glory and in triumph they could become
The momentary masters of a
Fraction of a dot

There is perhaps no better demonstration
Of the folly of human conceits
Than this distant image of our tiny world
It underscores our
Responsibility to deal more kindly
With one another and to preserve and
Cherish that pale blue dot
The only home we've ever known