The sky full of stars seemed dead and cold,

A place once so magical now hurt to behold.

Humans—the root of all stories untold.

Evolved past the limits, too reckless, too bold,

Yet birthed only rulers with hunger for gold.

The sky full of stars seemed dead and cold.

Man once was free, or so it was told,

Then chains were imposed, and the spirit was sold.

Humans—the root of all stories untold.

Control is our nature; we bow to the fold,

Yet cry out for freedom in myths that we mold.

The sky full of stars seemed dead and cold.

Destruction we bring, without laws to uphold,

No god to confine us, no scripture to scold.

Humans—the root of all stories untold.

We silence new voices, let intellect rot,

No place for successors, their wisdom forgot.

The sky full of stars seemed dead and cold.

We murdered our gods with the faith we begot,

Narrowed belief till divinity fought.

Humans—the root of all stories untold.

Power’s illusion—by influence bought,

A cycle repeated, yet lessons are naught.

The sky full of stars seemed dead and cold.

A place once so magical now hurt to behold,

Bound by our egos, our stories grow old.

Humans—the root of all stories untold.