Think of Mars not as a distant planet, but as a mirror held skywards — dusty, untamed, regal in its barren drapery.
Among the plethora of stars, Mars chuckles softly — a solitary joke spoken in the silence of pinkish dusk.
It is said that the winds whisper to the craters, keeping ember thoughts suspended as they play hide and seek among the ancient rocks.
Martian solitudes might harbor hidden clinical laughter — eternally unraveling mysteries that tickle the dirt.
One can only pause, entranced, as the embers of a Martian thoughts' past erupt into meteor showers.
If Earth is a warm soup, Mars is the nostalgic broth simmering in an endless cosmic kitchen.