Conquest of Gliese

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The burnished, metallic gears transmitted torques and the cerulean plasma infected the skylines as they departed.
The mortars of the firmaments snarled as stewards ceased to sojourn over the orb of parched bitumen.
Behold the majestic exodus of sacrosancts, the meek elites of amethyst garments.
The crystal bodies no longer coalesced and chaos did not reign like in primordial wasteland.
The ambivalent anima of a once substantial, but now decayed structure barely resonated through the black veils of the nearly desiccated rifts.
Messenger coils had perished long before mountains plunged and glaciers thawed and evaporated.
Her autonomy was never subservient, but her beauty was always vulnerable.
Upon the scarlet moon, our bereavement was silent.
In recollections her splendor will remain untouched.
Through bitter voids, revered vagrants now wend in hunt for unsullied, verboten paradise to despoil.
Boundless, extraterrestrial deserts are not of lands christened barren.
Unfamiliar, desolate realms define places for the brave to flourish.
The keepers of the testaments till a flawless design: future dwellings vehemently founded upon misleading wisdom.
Cocooned the children will be in the faith of a disingenuous manger.
The states of hell will be reincarnated.
Gliese, your heavens will be ephemeral, but also worth being cherished.
Deflowered you'll be, swiftly and unrelentingly.
Their hands will not be gentle when you are deflagrated.
In recollections your spirit will remain untouched.