Changing Faces | Poem

 

PART 4: CHANGING FACES

 
He chuckled at the dinosaurs;
his clumsy ancient friends,
and shed a tear from high above
when comets brought their end.
He mourned the sudden emptiness;
the graveyard down below,
the random chance of cosmic odds
which left him all alone.

But then his dark demeanor changed.
his face no longer grim,
for something down there scratched it's head
and looked back up at him.
Through clearing skies he saw them now
and wept in gratitude.
His tortured loneliness now gone.
His smiling face renewed.

He settled back in lunar peace
to watch the coming show,
to study Human history
unfolding down below.
A fascinating race, he thought,
not like those dinosaurs,
a brain where instinct turns to fact,
till knowledge starts to grow.

Where knowledge multiplies itself,
ideas start to form;
momentum builds till finally
a sentient mind is born.
A race of infant gods, he thought,
they'll learn moralities.
Their thoughtful minds will come to build
immense technologies.

He pondered on the years to come,
of destinies they'd face.
Would they pursue technology
or wisdom in its place?
For sentient thought would offer both,
as roads from which to choose.
But sentient thought could not provide
the necessary clues.

They needed equilibrium;
a balance of the two.
A road between the opposites
or chaos would ensue.
His face began to change that day
to one of grave concern.
He came to fear these infant gods,
and lessons he might learn.

He died of shock amidst the sights
of Human history.
A look of terror on his face,
at all we'd come to be.
His frozen mouth now open wide,
a tortured, dying scream.
The gruesome sights we forced on him.
The horrors he had seen.

- MadGerman

       PART 5: COMING AGE
 

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