The Backward Species

INTERGALACTIC OBSERVATION DIRECTORATE
SPECIES BEHAVIOURAL ASSESSMENT REPORT

Classification: Primitive, yet keen,
Intelligent life, but no intelligence seen.
Designation: Homo sapiens, an ironic name,
Not quite wise or astute, such a shame.

Subject World: Earth, once green, now scarred,
Sector 7Z-4: its hope long marred.
In Spiral Arm Theta, their cradle decays,
Doom etched deep in their dwindling days.

Observer Team: Auralis Command,
Cycle 942: with data in hand.
Report ID: 7Z-EARTH-FINAL breath,
A chronicle penned in the shadow of death.

Status: CLOSED, no contact made,
Too violent, too lost, too quick to fade.
Nonviable for contact, we must refrain,
Till wisdom blooms, or ends remain.

Report:

Across the void of endless black, through nebulae untold,
We’ve watched the birth of thinking minds in systems bright and cold.
We’ve seen them climb, we’ve seen them learn, we’ve seen them shape their fate –
Yet Earth alone has found a way to self-annihilate.

For here lies Earth, a vibrant sphere, a world of blue and green,
Where logic should have taken root, where brilliance should be seen.
And yet, against all reason’s pull, in folly’s grand parade,
This species runs toward its demise, so proud, yet so afraid.

A world so green, a world so bright, a world so full of chance,
And yet, its rulers march in step – a self-destructive dance.
They know their doom, they see the signs, the warnings loud and clear,
Yet sit upon their broken thrones and scoff: “Perhaps next year.”

We wonder – do they see it too? Do they sense the great descent?
Or are they blind by their own hand, asleep in their torment?
For all we’ve learned of life and time, of intellect refined,
This planet’s fate defies the course of every sane design.

These, humans – such a curious breed, so bold, yet so absurd,
Who worship things that do not speak yet silence those who should be heard.
They crave the truth, yet believe in myths, they seek yet do not find,
They light the dark, then curse the flame, they’re lost within their mind.

They scream for change, then shun its touch, resist with all their might,
Then mourn the fate they could have changed, if only they had sight.
They make machines to ease their toil, then work themselves to death,
They forge new ways to stay alive, then steal each other’s breath.

They labour for coins that don’t exist, for numbers on a screen,
They suffer debt their whole lives long, yet call their system “keen.”
They say that freedom is their goal, yet most are crushed by debt,
And when they march to break their chains, they’re told, Just not quite yet.

They argue if the heat is real while drowning in the flood,
They fight for rights they already have, then spill their brother’s blood.
They claim that wealth will trickle down, as fountains tend to do,
Yet somehow it defies all laws, and only trickles up to few.

But wait – there’s more! Their ways confound, their madness knows no bounds,
For even when they find their cures, they sell them by the pound.
They find solutions, bright and new, to heal their broken lands,
Then retail them at a price so high, it slips through starving hands.

They feed machines and feed the rich, let profits swell like tides,
While those who strive to shape their world are cast and tossed aside.
They hoard their food while millions starve, they lock their wealth away,
And those without are told to work, though jobs are tossed away.

And all, the wonders they invent – the heights they could ascend!
Yet when the facts disrupt their greed, their progress meets its end.
They fly through space, they touch the stars, their minds unlock the code,
Yet when they hear that Earth will die, their brains slip into “mode.”

They cut down forests, dam the seas, then wonder why they choke,
And when the air is thick with ash, they ask, “Who made this smoke?”
They dig and drill, they drain and kill, extract until it’s dry,
Then wonder, Why has nature failed? and turn to curse the sky.

They map the stars, they dream of flight, they sail beyond their sphere,
Yet fail to see the wreck they’ve left so broken, frail, and near.
They tell themselves they’re pioneers, the cosmos waits to greet,
Yet planets will not welcome those who burn beneath their feet.

Their leaders – ah, the finest minds, the ones who guide their way!
Elected not for knowledge vast, but how many lies they say.
They fashion laws, they carve out rules, they claim they seek to mend,
Yet every system they create is rigged to serve their end.

Their leaders rise, they play their parts, they take, embezzle and cheat,
Yet still the masses bow to them, enthralled at their deceit.
The ones who care, the ones who think, are laughed at, mocked, ignored,
While those who deceive and steal and hoard are worshiped and adored.

They fear the ones who seek to heal, yet trust the ones who kill,
They pray for peace, then arm themselves and fire at will.
They march for causes, scream for change, then turn their backs once done,
And wonder why the world’s the same – perhaps it’s not the sun?

Now ponder this, if you so dare, and share in our dismay:
Why do they fight for gods unseen, yet let their sick decay?
Why do they fear the things unknown, yet choose to stay unwise?
Why do they trust the liar’s tongue, yet scorn the ones who rise?

They, marvel at their grandest works, their towers raised so high,
Yet underneath, their children starve, their elders left to die.
They claim to build for future days, to plant and lay foundations,
Yet war for coins and burn their land, then weep at desolation.

And let us talk of war, dear friends, for humans love to fight,
They bomb, invade, destroy their own, then say “We brought them light.”
They claim to hate brutality, yet build their armies grand,
And when the weapons kill their own, they say, “You don’t understand.”

They talk of “freedom,” chant its name, yet shackle all they see,
They claim to love their fellow man, yet kill him ruthlessly.
They shout about their “human rights,” yet lock their own in cages,
They war for peace, destroy for gain, then document their rages.

They march in rows, they train for war, they sing their battle cries,
Yet when their sons do not return, they simply act surprised.
They claim that killing is a sin, then profit from its trade,
They drop their bombs, then send their priests to pray for those they’ve made.

They spend their wealth on tools of death, then ask, “But what of schools?”
They feed the rich, they starve the poor, then rewrite all the rules.
They hoard resources, watch folks die, then say, “That’s just the game.”
And when the desperate rise to fight, they shoot them down in shame.

Now tell us this – what race is wise, what species truly learns,
That builds a bomb to end all life, then builds ten thousand more in turns?
They fear their own, they guard their gates, yet dream of foreign stars,
Not knowing they will never leave – they’ll burn before they’re far.

They send their ships, they reach for Mars, they dream of skies so vast,
Yet fail to see the obvious: they’ll never leave their past.
For planets new will not accept the foolishness they bring,
And if they go as they are now, they’ll die before next spring.

They claim that war is natural, that conflict makes them strong,
Yet every war they’ve ever fought has proved that they are wrong.
For all their might and all their tech, for all their strength and skill,
Their greatest threat is not from space – it’s themselves, and always will.

We’ve seen the rise of countless worlds, of kingdoms carved in stone,
Yet none so eagerly embrace their fall and end alone.
For all their minds, their dreams, their words, their works of grand design,
Their fatal flaw, their greatest curse – is they refuse to try.

They could unite, they could survive, they could reshape their ways,
They could ensure a world exists beyond their fleeting days.
But humans – ah, such stubborn things! They love their gaudy chains,
And when the lock is shown to them, they cry, “You want us tamed?”

They call for change, they beg for peace, they ask for help from high,
Yet when they’re given wisdom free, they claim it’s all a lie.
They’d rather trust the loudest voice, the richest, cruellest hands,
Than think beyond their tiny tribes and build a world that stands.

So tell us now, dear Earthly minds, what choice will you embrace?
For we have seen what might be done, what could become your place.
Will you ascend? Will you evolve? Will wisdom light your way?
Or will you watch your world dissolve, and blame the stars that day?

So here we wait, and here we laugh, observing from afar,
And place our bets on when they’ll burn, not if, for that’s not far.
For species rise and species fall, but rarely quite like this –
A world that chooses its own death? That’s one we cannot miss.

We’ve watched, we’ve waited, we’ve reviewed, we’ve traced their every path,
And every road they choose to take leads back to self-made wrath.
A species built to learn, create, to forge, to heal, to grow,
Yet cursed, it seems, with hearts that crave their own impending woe.

And so we mark this world as lost, we place the final sign,
We close the file, we shut the case – this race will not align.
We watch, we wait, we wonder still, if somehow they’ll surprise,
But logic says they’ll dig their graves before they ever rise.

A species doomed by its own hand, so stubborn, blind, and proud,
That when their world begins to break, they simply shout LOUDER.
And so we go, and so we leave, and let them meet their fate,
For no one saves a drowning fool who wants to reach too late.

We hope they change, we hope they learn, we pray they’ll prove us wrong,
But in the end, they wrote the script – and we just watched along.

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