Farewell, Spaceman (pt. 2)

[Verse 1: AMS] I followed the first star that swooned me to roam/ Sub-zero cool, calm, paranoid, alone, so far from home/ Tight maintenance to manage, proper shape and ordinance/ Log my fears and insecurities aside complex coordinates/ But isn't this what I wanted? Solitude infinitesimal/ A testament to the tests I mastered, death inside the decimals/ A goal without self-reward, pinnacles to never be reached/ The cacophony of dead silences, where my nightmares never cease/ I save my composure for mission control/ The disembodied, short-wave voice of reason that reminds me of the importance of my role/ With countdowns to a date that seems to approach slowly/ And an unfeeling manila-missive that reads "for your eyes only"/ The fateful day in Zulu time, clock reaches in pensive pace/ Bloodshot eyes on dreadful ides, pandora's box dissected and traced/ Hands sweating, seal broken, unholy thoughts overturned/ And the gravely voice of authority asking me to confirm/ Eyes dart over blowout diagrams, reload times and ammunition/ Emergency overheat procedures, purpose and use decisions/ Resistance coefficients, scope for offensive readiness in missions/ Model revisions and estimated casualties based on target-hit precisions/ (This must be a mistake) falsehood of diplomatic efforts/ 28 years of attempted perfection, and an impeccable record/ Reduced to million dollar triggerman, taking orders as hollow route/ The understanding of how and why reduced to the want for follow through/ Every solid idea is now brittle brick crumbling/ The janky broken tune of progress, broken-legged baby steps stumbling/ The empty hope for something greater cast aside/ They again demanded I confirm (I cannot comply, your order is denied)/ I had enough of knowing my place, rank and file, staying in line/ The odd space between their budgets and which choices were actually mine/ The conscience in the balance, and what the figureheads lacked/ The brilliant flash of life extinguished, and vapid pats on the back/ I heard the whispered panic; they watched the meters as the figures changed/ A hasty suicidal re-entry, metrics re-arranged/ Sparse spatter of pinhole lights cascading through tempered glass/ As I found the purpose of my past efforts in the milliseconds to burn past/ Tumble end-over-end, falling into gravity's cradle/ Smile at the hull breach alarm, temperature rising unstable/ A final flash of the unknown, cast nobly from afar/ As this mass of self-sacrifice bursts into wish upon a falling star/ (I WON'T)//