We are near the end now.
I once harboured you – in roughened houses, in biblical arks, behind strengthened doors and the curled razor barricades of Flanders.
You cut me with sharpened metals from the earth. Peeled my skin. Pulped my flesh. Yet, you nurtured and respected me.
We once were close.
I gave you the tools to ask questions and provide the answers. To scribe poetry.
You wrote. You questioned. Sometimes questions came on crumpled pages with stubby charcoal. Why do I cry when I see the once-living eyes of my enemy? His flesh and bones like my own, only cloaked in different colours.
We once enjoyed equality. We gave. We took. We watched each other grow.
I inhaled your breath. I drew nutrients from deep beneath your feet. I converted the energy of a distant sun. I exhaled.
You inhaled my breath. You planted the seeds. You nurtured my children and spread them throughout the lands. You exhaled.
We once enjoyed simplicity.
Your words. Your worlds.
We are no longer equal.
I am not numerous enough to help.
Your material dreams, squabbles and pointless questions fill the screens. The trolls on Twitter and adult-site FAQs are powered by furnaces filled with my fallen brethren.