A POEM FROM ‘NO MAN’S SKY’
A traveller stands upon a hill,
Of sun-baked mud, a land of brown,
The air is misty, the wind is still,
A clump of mushrooms nearby have grown.
The landscape is a rugged terrain,
The distance fading in the mist,
Trees bent over, as if in pain,
Perhaps it is the Sun they miss?
What lies beyond horizon’s mask?
The traveller would like to know,
And so he sets out on his task,
Onwards, onwards, he will go.
Thanks to Hello Games for the image.