Your fathers watched this castle grow - rough dirt forts to this construct of subjugation, stone and plunder. Men once meant to build a kingdom here.

But what? The grass will wilt, the trees will die, the halls will burn again; the walls will fall. This time, for all time. Our fathers’ greed and ours. Their fathers’ greed before them. Our children’s onward marching greed extracting every gift the dying fields might give

What have we killed it for? So we can drive? So we can buy? So we can fly?