No one has accomplished what they have
And we are the sole inheritors of culture
Humans solely have worth
We are emperors of the earth
But there are systems that exist
The balance of art and pragmatism
A form of a tryst
Wherein the humans labor
Sometimes in pointless pursuits
So that they might eat
Food is a commodity
Land is in dispute
No one lives without a cost
Every baby born is an unique being
But their ability to succeed is lost
The world is ancient
All humans are a burden
To the system that existed prior
We presume to understand
But there is nothing to know
We have tried to hold what cannot be held
We have tried to break the wild of nature
Upon the surface we carved
Initials and cities
In the absence of our full control
Earth has rebelled and our ability to adjust
Is questionable
All of our saviors are not only gone
But they've been crucified, shot or starved
And we are running out of time
