Legacy of Man

I look at the autumn leaves,

Golden, scarlet, fire abound.

Fall from the trees,

Dead without a sound.

A thousand seasons come,

And a thousand seasons go.

Our legacies are left,

But what exactly do they show?

A world changed by hurt,

A never-healing scar.

We stand on the blood-stainded dirt,

We miss the shooting star.

Our conciences we leave behind,

Could save our souls, save our minds.

But we give in to greed,

We let it plant it's seed,

And now our demons run amuk.

In our city streets,

And in the ruck,

As Man's stone heart beats.

And our better halves fall to the ground,

As we detroy tomorrow,

And we dance to the never-ending sound

Of the angels weeping in sorrow.

A thousand seasons come,

And a thousand seasons go.

Our legacies are left behind,

But what exactly do they show?