Farewell, Spaceman (pt. 2)

[Verse 1: AMS]

I followed the first star that swooned me to roam/
Sub-zero cool, calm, paranoid, alone, so far from home/
Tight maintenance to manage, proper shape and ordinance/
Log my fears and insecurities aside complex coordinates/
But isn't this what I wanted? Solitude infinitesimal/
A testament to the tests I mastered, death inside the decimals/
A goal without self-reward, pinnacles to never be reached/
The cacophony of dead silences, where my nightmares never cease/
I save my composure for mission control/
The disembodied, short-wave voice of reason that reminds me of the importance of my role/
With countdowns to a date that seems to approach slowly/
And an unfeeling manila-missive that reads "for your eyes only"/
The fateful day in Zulu time, clock reaches in pensive pace/
Bloodshot eyes on dreadful ides, pandora's box dissected and traced/
Hands sweating, seal broken, unholy thoughts overturned/
And the gravely voice of authority asking me to confirm/
Eyes dart over blowout diagrams, reload times and ammunition/
Emergency overheat procedures, purpose and use decisions/
Resistance coefficients, scope for offensive readiness in missions/
Model revisions and estimated casualties based on target-hit precisions/
(This must be a mistake) falsehood of diplomatic efforts/
28 years of attempted perfection, and an impeccable record/
Reduced to million dollar triggerman, taking orders as hollow route/
The understanding of how and why reduced to the want for follow through/
Every solid idea is now brittle brick crumbling/
The janky broken tune of progress, broken-legged baby steps stumbling/
The empty hope for something greater cast aside/
They again demanded I confirm (I cannot comply, your order is denied)/
I had enough of knowing my place, rank and file, staying in line/
The odd space between their budgets and which choices were actually mine/
The conscience in the balance, and what the figureheads lacked/
The brilliant flash of life extinguished, and vapid pats on the back/
I heard the whispered panic; they watched the meters as the figures changed/
A hasty suicidal re-entry, metrics re-arranged/
Sparse spatter of pinhole lights cascading through tempered glass/
As I found the purpose of my past efforts in the milliseconds to burn past/
Tumble end-over-end, falling into gravity's cradle/
Smile at the hull breach alarm, temperature rising unstable/
A final flash of the unknown, cast nobly from afar/
As this mass of self-sacrifice bursts into wish upon a falling star/
(I WON'T)//