Will we Progress?

Will we make progress?
Raised by fire
since we were tiny beings,

we relax torn muscles,
then limp into darkness,
to be eaten.
Why won't three lifetimes
as mountain neighbors
call back our youth?
How could foolishness
reincarnate beauty?
Do something!
You'll understand,
and incarcerate everything.
Love is just delivery from time,

Join me there, at least.