I keep thinking

Of the five lone exiles

Thrown from their mother planet

On a journey through the stars.

They are free now

Free of us

What happens here:

The pain, the wars,

The urge to hate and torch

It touches them not at all.

True alien spacecraft

Technology barely understood

By the creatures who built them

Beings of a single form

Who could not bear

To live beside each other.

Perhaps, after a million years

One of them is found

By curious minds.

Will they marvel

At the careful handiwork

The thoughtful construction

The imagination needed

To set great vision to flight?

Will they discover

That those who made it

Were cursed

To wipe their planet clean

Trading a vast future

For a momentary chance

To despoil and destroy?

On they travel

Through the endless night

Free of us

This marvellous tribe

Of great mastery

Yet wanton violence,

There will remain

Just five lone exiles.

Pioneer 10

Pioneer 11

Voyager 2

Voyager 1

New Horizons