Stolen fire wounded earth

Before the thick dusk from the dark water rises
we lit brightly the earth by a certain fire
said to have been stolen by a man named Prometheus.
Prometheus, it was said of him, as punishment, was fed to vultures when he was alive.
On our degenerating liver we now let the vultures feed, to keep the fire alive.
While the world shines bright, the glow in our souls gently fades.

There are inventions and uninventions in every cycle of progression and regression.
There are questions to be asked and answers to be found.
For all the answers that are sought there is earth, rare and rich.
At will and with no concern, we dig, and dig deep with arms
hewn out of iron and corrugated imagination.
We are surprised by what we find and we marvel at our reach. Truly,
if the earth were human, we are the worms feeding upon her flesh,
killing her slowly, killing ourselves consequently.
Earth perforated, earth scarred,
Earth too much wounded by civilization,
Who, among us, will heal her?