In the shadow of dust and time,
Mars speaks in silent tones,
Beneath the crimson vast sublime,
A world of ancient stones.
Echoes of whispers in the air,
Of storms that rage and cease,
A landscape so austere and bare,
Yet holds a silent peace.
The valleys carved by phantom streams,
In silent witness stand,
Guardians of forgotten dreams,
Upon this alien land.
Beneath the sky, a fiery red,
The spirit of Mars endures,
In every grain and riverbed,
A timeless allure assures.