Prophecies of life
Written in stone
Engraved on tablets and walls
And carved out of bones,
Written by descendents
Looking for a home
A place that they could settle
These prometheans did roam.
Across the universes
They aspired to find some peace
In a world of unimaginable beauty
Never before seen
Singing songs in cadences
The utopian dream,
Not knowing how the future
Was likely to turn out,
The future generations
Would live in fear and doubt
Of their own creation
Not understanding the beliefs
About the meaning of their lives
And beyond the reach.
fauxcroft 
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