Something a little lighter it still like everything thus far needs work.
I have a tale to tell,
about the night "They" came.
It was a normal evening
in the cool of December
and the clock read 2:03.
Little men made of gray,
with large insectoid eyes.
Flew in upon an astral skiff,
which sailed the planar sea.
Their tiny ship zigged and zagged,
through this sea of stars
and contrary to most beliefs,
"They" were not that bizarre.
"They: didn't try to cut me open,
to see my insides work.
Not once did "They" try to probe me,
nor did they act like jerks.
Instead "They" sang a merry song,
about the vastness of eternity
how long their people live
and the kraken of these seas.
When "They" finally returned me
it seemed a year had passed,
but the clock still read 2:03
and that my friend was that.
