Balance

Mankind

Once standing high among mountains sky,
Lived a man belonging to no notable faction.
In the morn he would rise, to gaze upon the land.
Happily content, seeing all has well went.
Lush green scenery, what is meant to be.
Joy rang in his heart, understanding the gods art.
Everything in place with purpose, having part.
What could possibly destroy this? A facetious thought.

His mountain high, shadowed the land.
Grandly enchanting what had become, of his play-box sand.
Above the clouds none could see, but he.
A beautiful life sprawling beneath.
Tongue in cheek, he dares to speak.
A joyous tone, thrown meek.
What could he possibly speak? A thought, incomplete.

Rising with the sun to see the day begun.
Weakening in his heart.
Crying out, "The art! The art!"
As rage began to spark.
Made content, falling to sleeps tease,
Believing they could see as he.
Whilst the people felt weak,
Unable to speak, they scrambled to appease.
Confining those whom do not fear their heed.

Massive drills dug in deep, bleeding every ounce they seek.
No longer lush and green, serene a scene to be.
Houses growing larger, they walk around in disaster.
Ornaments, exposure, replacing kind composure.
Dividing into factions, the poorest and the fattened.
Unbalanced, obscene, now in everything -- forgotten.

Thoughts complete, meet, as rage and sadness greet.
Holding hand to hand, everything of woman and man.
It is now time, to call the divine to land.

Summoning the Devils hand, he stands beside the man.
What have they done? Do they not see, those drills awaken me?
Summoning the Gods hand, she stands beside the man.
What have they done, do they not see, this destruction is poverty?
The man stands in between, subjected to the scene.
Knowing what the creatures bring.

The Devil looks to the God, an understood nod.
Wraith begins its form, entering the mountain scorned.
An exotic display, wraith at play, carried away.
Returning with his art, the Devil leads the charge.
As hot magma discharged.
Covering the land to sea, destroying everything.

The God looks to the Devil, an understood nod.
Grace begins to let go, entering the oceans glow.
A righteous display, grace at play, carried away.
Returning with her art, the God leads the charge.
As cooling rains emerge.
Quenching hot land with sea, washing clean, everything.

The God and Devil look to man
Standing on his broke mountain.
No longer above the clouds, his view closer now.
Start again, friend, you will see.
Together, we can be, eternally.