When we finally peered out from under our self contained rock and marvelled at the heavens and the wonders they must hold
Did it really come as such a big surprise to realise that we are but nothing in the grand scheme of being
The only real mystery is how we still refuse to accept our own insignificance
Viewed from above, higher beings would see us, as we see a fungus
Our diseased legacy sprawling outwards like an unchecked mould growing in a celestial petri dish
Multiplying and infecting a fertile land, defenceless against such an obnoxious epidemic.
And when it is finally all over and our supercilious scab inevitably falls from the planet’s skin, we may eventually be remembered but we certainly will not be missed.