Analysis of The stellar wind

The stellar wind in vacant sails,
Ripping through skin and meat,
And grinding bones to dust entails
For sake of new world kneading.

It`s tasteless and its colors range,
Beyond the grasp of feeble sight,
It`s unbiased and without grade,
There is no directing of flight.

And it`s the wind are only in a words,
In fact, it`s more a flow.
So floundering amidst these waves,
You find a seed of glow,

From shot right through - sobbing -
Of chaotic stream corpuscles,
And the pupil is dappled, pitted,
And vibrate even every muscles.