I am washed by the metaphors of world literature
As if I could bask and bathe in humanity
The mysticism lost at the heart of history
My pledge to the landscapes that no longer exist.
The pristine world has been cannibalized by cities
Cities built on the marketplace and rivalries of men
Cities lonely and isolated from the galaxy
And the previous nature of this planet’s hospitality.
The genocides of biodiversity have taken place
There’s no way around Man’s systematic violence
The primitive aggression of the selfish gene
That destroys the habitat of species just to grow.
The cold lips of the night are how I await dystopia
Not because I don’t have faith in man, but am wary of him
The tyranny that he would enslave his own kind
Simply to profit for a while, simply to have a legacy.