The grand far reaching scope of mortal things
Account for blights on Earth and well beyond
Like plague our calloused touch has struck but brings
No guilt or fear to which we must respond
A thin and frail divide exists between
A species’ bleakest failure and success
The human race seems driven by obscene
Desire, like locusts to consume, possess
We are a riddle for we do lay waste
On earth, but phoenix like, we rise with fire,
Ride comets or ascend the moon encased
In electronic magic, to dreams we aspire
Is God a jester laughing at his joke?
Satire is without humor if invoked