Altars too scarred
I’ve seen beautiful armour,
surviving man by some seven centuries.
We don’t give up easily, do we?
We made Gods, now mostly forgotten,
and altars too scarred for our tastes
but we keep constructing these star ships Pandora,
forever blowing up in our face.
We have opinion polls
and the will of the people,
telling us all that we know.
But you can’t pray for reason, now can you?
We built and build these towers of strength.
Oh, how we aspire and deny.
We don’t give up easily, do we?