The Fate of Human Knowledge

The leaves rustle but their language is dead to me,

The waves crash but their effort is forgotten to me,

The Moon waxes, but its voice is mute to me,

The Wind blows, but its adventures are lost to me.

What is my knowledge if taught with one voice?

Who is my teacher if only my kin?

Where is my classroom if built by my father?

When is my history if its only my race?

The world was my teacher, but now I teach myself,

The birds were my cohort, but now I am alone,

The sky was my roof, and the ground was my bed,

The world was my history, but I write my own instead.

I am a people, consumed with self-love,

I am the bully, in violence and shame,

I am the strong one, now gone too far.

I am the scared one, lost and alone.

I am humanity, the hairless, hunting one,

I am the tamer, the culler of the wild,

I am the bookkeeper, the writer and scribe,

I am the knowledge maker, rich and alive.

But who do I live with, in my cities and towns?

Where are my companions, with whom I can share?

I forgot them, I lost them, and put them aside,

The more I created, the more I had to hide.

My knowledge grows, self-obsessed and sustaining,

Its science, omnipotent, revealing and explaining,

Isolating and destructive my archives expand,

My tools of discovery are always in hand.

So I search, I pry and I molest,

I measure, extrapolate, and I test,

On a podium I watch, and I judge the rest,

I am logic embodied, I am the best.

Why should I record the songs of the Leaves,

Why should I awe the force of the Waves

What does the Moon have that I cannot learn,

Where does the Wind blow that I cannot fly?

Arrogant you say? But who will prove me wrong?

Lonely you think? But I prosper everywhere!

Limited you say? But I build without restraint!

I am Man, I live, I CREATE!

And when I am old I will die, in splendour and wealth!

The young with celebrate my progress, my knowledge!

I will on because I record, and I build!

I will live longer than any forest or hill!


But now I am old and doubt creeps in,

my confidence erodes, and my voice starts to fade,

my pursuit of discovery slows, my ears open,

Suddenly there are voices, loud and soft, and low.

What is my knowledge if taught in one voice?

Who is my teacher if only my kin?

Where is my classroom if built by my father?

When is my history if its only my race?

I can’t understand them, because I ignored,

I can’t relate to them, because I destroyed,

I don’t belong with them, because I ran off,

I can’t share with them, for all I know is theft.

Now I am old,

my confidence shakes like my frail legs,

my knowledge fails like my clouded eyes,

my friends disappear as they waste away,

I am alone, alone, alone.

The leaves rustle, but their language is dead to me,

The Waves crash, but their effort is forgotten to me,

The Moon Waxes, but its voice is mute to me,

The Wind blows, but its adventures are lost to me.

My knowledge is self-taught, and self-shared.

It will disappear with me,

The earth will not remember for I was never its friend.

This is the fate of human knowledge, this is its end.

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