You think to arrange the world to your liking. So you map the band and draw lines across it, claiming ownership simply because you can draw a picture of it. The plants that grow and the beast that rove, you mark as your own, claiming not only what lives today, but what might grow tomorrow, to do with as you please. Then, in your conceit and aggression, you wage wars and slay one another over the lines you have imagined on the world’s face.
Name it as you will, claim it as you will, the world does not belong to men. Men belong to the world.