The world is a thing.
And we are the creatures who inhabit it.
The world is a dying rock.
It's slowly being etched away by us.
We are the things that kill to get what we want.
We call this war.
The world is a clump.
A clump that is being slaughtered by its own.
For our definition of perfect,
We are far from it.
We are so far from it
You could call us evil.
We are the evil beings that possess this planet
If you say we are evil.
You could call us good.
We are the deities that nurture this planet
If you say we are perfect.
No, we are in between
With good intentions of course.
The world is a thing
And we are the creatures who inhabit it.
