Galactic Core

The Milky Way spins around a black hole, an emptiness.
All these bright stars and our own little world, around a darkness.
Out in the nowhere, what holds us here, but an endless hunger?
 Another night, trying to find love, or a pleasurable counterfeit.
Another night in the bars and clubs, looking at all those pretty women.
Another night, wanting to touch, and feel wanted, and welcomed in.
 The pumping music and the songs full of passion and the good times.
The intoxicants and the madness and the fleeting pleasures we find.
And what holds us here, but an endless hunger?

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