Maybe humans cannot return

From the ending they have fashioned

Maybe we were just some divine research gone awry

God wanted to sit back and watch us

With our heads down

Staring at screens kept in our pocket

The poor humans with their endless migration

Towards an eternal reward

The rich humans with their outstanding vehicles

And hundred-dollar shoes

The cognoscenti with their poetry readings

And art exhibits

All of them asleep in the beds

Of their haunted apartments