Fading Legacy Of The Pilots Of The Universal Century

Past streets and through wheat fields the tired pilot calmly walks.
With wind, water, and insect noise to us the Earth talks.
Our feet in the piled up snow causes footprints and rifts.
These will be erased in time as the snow melts or drifts.
Prints in the sand by turning tide get washed away.
Our marks will not last even if they are made in clay,
Not long before that patch has a building put on it.
Around ourselves we bend what is natural to fit.
We secretly hope these artificial things always last.
To testify of we humans when our time is past.
For anything created there is something we destroy.
People are hastened to destruction by their own ploy.
All these buildings we make by nature can be knocked down.
The sea can rise up and cause an entire town to drown.
In structures and technology we place so much trust.
But we are the most likely to turn all into dust.