114. The Future

Man has a choice.
Between dark.
Between light.
Who will write the pages of the next thousand years?
Will it be peace and harmony with nature and ourselves
Living in a glorious utopian paradise?
Or will there only be more bloodshed and violence
As we fall into the chasm
Of our own making?
When will our star fall from its lofty height?
What new stars will replace us?
Will they pave their roads with us
As we with those before?
There will be new Ozymandias statues
Erected and worn like the old.
Who will come to sing our song?
I don’t know.
The muse hasn’t told me.
I only report what comes to my fingers.
My muse tells me only what has been written.
But she says this,
It’s only the prologue to an even greater story.