This is a song of repose

In these times that are

Anything but peaceful

The center cracks and

We spin out of control

For we are nothing but

Form born of menace and

Provocation shaped as it

Pushes us to expand like

A galaxy whirling through

Space with arms spiraling

In luminous bands of stars

And gas and dust amid dark

Matter from our formation

Dying stars rupture hurling

Explosive remains to seed

The universe while this

Lullaby soothes the din

To help us find quiet

Among the uproar