We were born in the forest, Living in the shadows, Clinging to our loved ones In the dark, under the trees. Life was good then, We had picked fruit from branches And swung on them for joy. And there was no greed Or jealousy. Over millions of years, We lived in harmony, Until the forest changed; The garden shriveled and Faded away as we watched. Our lives were rearranged. Some among us ventured out. Giving in to our sin: curiosity. We turned the grasslands into pavement and stone And we endured pain to walk Down in the street, surrounded by canyons of concrete and steel. The powerful gather now and hoard what was once shared. Hors dβoeuvres are served, Placating the hunger of the omnipotent, that is never stated; They will keep taking from us As long as we allow it. Even as they wallow in wealth, They plot to plunder riches and destroy the world, scraping the land and scouring the sea. But one day, some loner, a rebel May emerge from the shadows, Dark-clad, filled with inchoate rage. He will find like-minded souls Who use the new machinations To topple the oligarchs, Empty their accounts And give them to the world. Chaos may follow, But out of it a new humanity Might arise.
A memory of what humans used to be, what horrible things they became and the hope that humans might decide to live as they once had, using progress to help each other.