Airchitects

Waiting here through the ages, the gargoyles over me
Stare at us, mocking smiles implying that we're better at storytelling than at concrete achievements.
Growth is leading us nowhere. Here is what I see :
Glitter flashes, paper houses, credits over generations, we'll leave a gold mine where all the stones are gold-plated.
The more we know and the less we try to make things better, to wonder why our society's declining, is falling apart,
Down to nothing, let's take a new start !
The heritage, we received, was a treasure not meant to regress to the "air-itage" we will leave, too sweetened to conceal its emptiness.
Fly to where concerns are deeper,
A ticket to somewhere new,
A plane that would take us to progress,
But coming to the end :
We've been dumped in the boarding room.