I found a point of stone from a thousand years ago,
A prehistoric missile from a prehistoric bow.
My thoughts were turned to pondering
This anient hunters fate
Did his arrow find its mark or did it fly too late?
Was this shot his final one amidst some tribal strife
Was it fired in anger or to save a loved ones life?
The battles long since over
forgotten is its worth,
The warriors gone the foe is gone
Their bones have turned to earth.
Yet the arrow lingers on
a message from the past,
Men and motives fade away,
only weapons last.
So be it man of atom or be it man of dust,
We mastered war and killing,
but we never learned to trust.
Our legacy is written in the blood of past disgrace.
We started with a point of stone and lost the human race.
A prehistoric missile from a prehistoric bow.
My thoughts were turned to pondering
This anient hunters fate
Did his arrow find its mark or did it fly too late?
Was this shot his final one amidst some tribal strife
Was it fired in anger or to save a loved ones life?
The battles long since over
forgotten is its worth,
The warriors gone the foe is gone
Their bones have turned to earth.
Yet the arrow lingers on
a message from the past,
Men and motives fade away,
only weapons last.
So be it man of atom or be it man of dust,
We mastered war and killing,
but we never learned to trust.
Our legacy is written in the blood of past disgrace.
We started with a point of stone and lost the human race.