All was alive once. There were birds in the trees and fish in the streams. As I watch, however, all of that incredible greatness in which humanity used to live in harmony is gone. How can anyone understand this grief of which I feel? They have lost their minds. They have gone back to the form in which they had achieved before. They eat when they see food and sleep whenever they feel the hand of slumber guide them into unnamable dreams. As I take note of the event in which has changed all that began this ugly fate, I wish that one day, one who is capable of speech, writing, and anything that is connected to education and knowledge could read what I have recorded in here and understand the fate of what has happened upon this earth.
Every now and then I can hear their cries and their screams. No words are formed in their drooling mouths. I have stood here in this tower looking out of this large glass window for a long long time. The city that was once is no more. The buildings that stood high have now rusted to extreme and met their fate of eternal crumbling. Only this one tower in which I stand has seized to be able to live through the years of pain and grotesque torture. And from where I stand, the earth before me is losing its sole sanity and turning into a land of madness.
It all started, perhaps a few hundred years ago, if my memory has not yet left me. I remember going about my usual job collecting papers for recording yearly events. It is the only thing I live for. I am a Recorder as they called it. The beings that once inhabited this planet sought to obtain intelligence much more than they already had. However, as all things come to an end, their knowledge soon came to such an abrupt stop that no one had any idea of anything. They knew too much and the thought of that was tormenting them. Sometimes, I believe, in my own fashion, that knowledge can be an evil beast at times. It is merely healthy to be inquisitive about matters. Knowing everything would make one quite bored. That is just what happened. Soon the beings around me grew restless, wanting new idea after new idea. However, none came as it was the end of their knowledge. I have lived in a time where knowledge was important for one’s success, but now in this new time, it turned to be a mere toy. The beings used that knowledge in a playful fashion. It is nothing to them now. Just as music of a singer soon goes out of style when a new singer is introduced, they soon tired of that “old” knowledge. Always striving for more. Soon came a time of conflict.
Some of them blamed others saying they were hiding knowledge from them. The others thought the same. Cases went to court, beings were sent to jail, and some turned to suicide from the distress of none of their friends or family believing they weren’t hiding anything. Soon, all the deadly weapons were brought out once more after four-hundred years of peace. The beings strived to gain knowledge from those who clearly had no more new knowledge. Theft was taken to view again and even the cruelty of torture was brought about once more. The beautiful world began to collapse as the beings fought one another. One of the fights occurred right behind where I am standing, overlooking the city.
It was bright daylight in the afternoon. I was going about my business as usual when the Boss suddenly fired with a pistol of some kind at one of the employees. Luckily, she was unhurt. However, she too had a pistol-like weapon in her hands. The Boss shouted at her insisting she tell him the knowledge which she knew so well that he probably didn’t know. However, before I knew it, it was over in a flash and the sound of bullet meeting flesh rang in my ears. The sound was so deadly but I ceased to cover my ears and for record, I forced myself to watch as the Boss fell deadly to the floor. Blood gushed out of his sides and he writhed in pain before looking to me for help. However, I just stared at him with the cold blank expression I always wore on my emotionless face. I saw as, in distress, his soul rise from out of his body and evaporate into the air that supported not enough healthy air for those to breath. The air on this planet has long been artificial and I do not remember what the real air tasted like.
It has been long since the Boss had died and the last of the survivors died or ran far away never to return to the tower which I stand. Oh, without the Boss it is terribly lonely, even for one such as me. But still as my duty I go about my daily chores. Almost programmed into the deep of my gears, I cannot stop recording. I have tried, in vain, to stop my process which is clearly no longer needed. However, it was useless. I do believe though that one day someone, some living and understanding being will come to the tower that sits upon this dark green hill. The land that was once civilization has now regained its life and has begun to go back to its youth. The land where beings had yet to exist. I am truly at peace with this new land. Not much change except for an occasional storm or drought. I close my eyes as the sun shines over the rocky horizon where mountains had yet to regain full recovery from the beings.
Yes, the chemical scent still lingers in the air. Quite unlike me, I have seemed to have developed a strange sense of emotion. Something I had yet to possess before. Love. I have found love in this new land deprived of beings. Where strange birds sing beautiful songs in the morning and evening. Where the sun sets earlier but rises slower than before. Where creatures I have yet to find a name roam the lands free and safe from the dangerous beings that had killed such innocent creatures in the past. Yes, I love this new land but have occasionally been striked by a terrible loneliness without the usual ongoing of beings.
It is, even to me, an amazement, that I was able to watch the world regain its paradise. It is almost as honor to have seen such beauty. To those who have found me, I would guess I am no longer alive. It is strange for one such as me to use the word “alive”. However, death is the same for me just as it is for you. Scary yet peaceful. As I sit on the Boss’s chair I brought from his study, looking out at the true beauty of the green iridescent world, my gears will probably slow to a stop. Soon my eyes would lose their shine, my mouth, straight and tight would close, and my arms would go limp. Soon the weather and dust would take me and rust would eat my every metal.
To those who have found me at such a state, I thank you for opening my back storage compartment. It is where all records of the past are hidden and all technology is stored. If you are lucky enough, I ask you to please, grow and thrive. Be the kings of the land and live with Earth in harmony. I must say to you, please, by all means don’t end up in the poor helpless state of your ancestors. Their mistake is for you to fix.
I wish you luck and love,
The Recorder of TimeNo. 14459 Type: Robotic Intelligence
© Copyright 2016 Naomi Folettia. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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