Chilly Void

There is a solitude of space,

An air about it that chills,

Though it does not invade my face,

It is covered in many frills.

Being naked in the void,

I feel the eyes of a billion stars,

I cling there completely annoyed,

Heeding the call of the sitars.

I propel myself through the glory of space,

Hoping to find myself a shield,

Distancing myself from the human race,

I have found myself quite revealed.

Looking at the skin I wear,

Ripping off the shelter to my insides,

I feed it to a space hare,

Exposing the swamp in which everything resides.