The Perspective of Bees

The Giant Ones have lost their spark
The Monoliths have become cold
Metal and lifeless; prone now
To senseless mutual annihilation.
They collide with one another and
Cease the beating of their metal hearts
Parts of the machines that hum
Like our tiny vibrating wings.
The Giant Ones no longer hunt
For the feasts they would gain.
The Monoliths cry out in what seems
To us to be some sort of pain
Foreign and scary
But they ignore us busy ones
Content to pass on by noisily and
In perpetual agony and hunger for
Nothing good.
So we beat on,
Aware but unarmed,
Peaceful guardians of the Earth,
Sentries of the pollen-laced friends
That are struggling to find root
Amongst the graying landscape,
So rife with smog.
The Giant Ones’ roars are even scarier
Than they were at the beginning of time.
We implore you, the living centers of these
Metal Giants,
Allow us to safeguard this
Dying planet.

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