The Past Perfect Eden

An untouched valley sits
With its arms open to the world,
A virgin paradise,
The second Eden.

A stirring is heard
Softly at first,
It grows louder as the days pass
Until it commands the ears with its roar.

Smoke belches from machines
Tearing up the earth,
Destroying the wild
And building hives.

Human hives,
Bigger than any other,
Towering into the sky,
Slowly creeping across Eden.