Running into Oblivion

I can remember when I was younger; when the people; the humans first appeared on the surface. Confused, bewildered and primitive. Furry, little creatures they were. Speaking in grunts and growls. They made the rats look civilized. Most of the time they fought amongst themselves. Bare knuckles fighting. Then they realised the animals around them as well as the plants and earth beneath their feet.

Survival; the primitive, base need, hard-wired into the brains of every living creature. Humans were no different. They realised they were defenceless in comparison to their animal counterparts. They had separated themselves from the animals now. This resulted in the learning of weapons building. Sharpening and shaping rocks into sharp objects, mimicking the fangs of the big cats or the tusks of the mammoths. The humans bound them to straight pieces of wood for throwing or holding. They called them 'spears' and 'axes'. It frightened me. The fodder for the hunter was now turning the tables.

The humans were nomads. They moved depending on the seasons and the movements of the animals. Yes; that's right, they'd learnt to differentiate the weather patterns, as well as how the animals reacted to these changing patterns. At least they only took what they needed and used everything they caught. This behaviour did not concern me greatly at the time. They were not wasteful or inefficient and had established an understanding, albeit basic, of the pecking order of the animals. But like children they learnt, and they learnt quickly.

Mere millennia had past before they had multiplied and spread. Now they had stopped moving for they had no need to. The humans had developed ways to manufacture more substantial shelters instead of adapting to the environment. The land and the elements were at their mercy. They were upsetting the balance and that greatly disturbed my rest. Huts of mud and plants used to protect the humans. They killed more of my animals and felled more of my trees and plants to make way for their 'tribes' and 'farms'. Man was no longer an animal amongst animals. He was the top of the food chain.

Steady progress of mankind was of no concern to me for several centuries. They took no more than they had and they expanded no more. But as anyone knows, no more than myself; all good things must come to an end.

Their 'tribes' had drastically expanded. They were now able to 'tame' the animals; instead of killing from the 'wild' as they now called it. They cultivated crops and took care of cattle. Tilling and working the land. I called them civilized when they behaved and sadistic barbarians when they chose not to. More times than not I observed their decidedly awful behaviour towards one another and their environment. They now had weapons that made their swords and clubs look archaic. These strange objects of metal, shaped in long hollow forms which shot projectiles. I think they called the smaller ones 'guns' and the larger ones 'cannons'. As I observed them I noticed they had developed more ways to kill themselves, each other and the innocent animals than they had ways to save them. I had begun to hope they would destroy themselves so the balance that had been destroyed could be restored.

I watched on in silent horror as they developed ways to mine into the soils of my lands. Bringing up the liquid and fossils and history to burn them away in their metal monstrosities. They called the blood of my land 'black gold'. I had shuddered in anger every time they took these precious soils and called the 'minerals' and 'gems'. The humans now had the nerve to call their tribes 'cities'. I grew fearful as they developed grey blocks to live in. The rubbish, man had created blocked out the sun. Trees, plants, animals; wiped out at the hands of these 'innovators'.

It is always so hot now. Thick smog covers the sun and ruins my skies. The trees are all gone now. Concrete jungles replace them. The humans are dying. Once fertile soils are now barren and dry. They've sapped the resources and drained me until there is nothing left. I cried and no one would listen. Harvesting everything. Taking, plundering and pillaging everything I had. Now, I lay, withered and dry. As cold as man will soon be. The oblivious running into oblivion has cost us everything.

END.