Read about wars;
Heard about deaths;
Know human beings
And their penchant for power.
Fairy tales spoke of it:
Witches who killed princes,
Then priests who killed witches—
Even those who healed.
April brought sweet showers
That the dead could not dance in.
Yet wars were fought,
History was written—
Differently, for different powers.
Gods upon millennia
Passed.
And human beings remain
Stupid.
Clinging to faith, or awe,
Taught by fear
Of being so small
In the glowing massiveness of universes.
Unrealising:
We come from stars, too.
Yet we choose death,
Born of greed that strips
Root from tree,
Child from mother—
To fight for strips of land
That will never remain ours.
Nor will the name
Your dead mother gave you,
That the world remembered
For just an age.



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