What happens to a human all alone?

In a deserted, abandoned, faraway land,

With no laws or actions condemned or condoned,

Without duty, or reason, or another's demand?

 

The primitive life,

Does it unhinge the mind?

Is a human empowered or imprisoned through strife?

 

How can a being so smart and inspired

Live in a manner so far from desire?

 

Humans once lived miles apart,

Coexisting with nature and humble of heart,

Maybe we're too warped by our "civilized" bias,

To realize material goods don't define us.

 

We marvel at government, at monuments and machines,

But humans are so much more than they seem.

All our necessities are found deep inside,

Tucked away in the nooks of our mind.

 

With a power inside we build up great nations,

A tool in the tool box called imagination.

 

And deserted, abandoned, faraway lands,

Turn into homes made of forest and sand,

Turn into fantastical worlds with magical beasts,

Where dragons fly and sea monsters sleep,

 

Where every day is a new adventure,

And nothing is ever taken for granted,

But happy with thoughts and dreams and conjecture,

We may find ourselves most at peace when we're stranded.