Earth Divided: A Reflection on Humanity’s Struggles

The man stood on the riverbank, his glasses perched firmly on his nose as he stared across the water. The iconic Ferris wheel loomed in the background, slowly turning, its reflection shimmering in the rippling river below. The world around him seemed calm—serene, even. Yet, his mind was anything but.

A question, heavy and unrelenting, swirled within him. "What are we doing on this earth?"

He wasn’t sure if the question was meant for himself or for the world at large. As he looked at the skyline, the thought expanded, growing louder and more complex. Everywhere he looked, he saw the marks of division, of struggle. Men against men. Women against women. Men and women against each other. East against West. West against East. The same patterns of conflict and competition playing out endlessly.

The thought consumed him as memories of news headlines flashed in his mind—wars raging in distant lands, protests in city streets, families torn apart by ideologies, and communities collapsing under the weight of hatred and indifference. The divisions were everywhere, so deeply ingrained that they felt almost natural. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be.

He thought of the earth itself—this shared home that humanity treated with such disregard. Forests disappearing, oceans choking with plastic, species vanishing one after another. It was as if humanity had declared war not only on itself but on the very planet that gave it life.

Nearby, a child’s laughter broke through his thoughts. He turned to see a little boy playing by the water’s edge with his father. They were tossing pebbles into the river, watching the ripples grow wider and wider until they faded into the current. The simplicity of it struck him—a father and son, creating ripples without realizing the metaphor they embodied.

He thought about those ripples. About how every action, no matter how small, carries outward into the world. The man wondered if the boy would grow up to understand the weight of his actions, the impact of his choices. Would he learn to care for the earth, for others? Or would he, too, be caught in the endless cycle of division and destruction?

The sky above seemed to echo his thoughts, its clouds drifting aimlessly like unspoken questions. For a moment, he imagined the sky asking, "Why must my galaxies mourn while you draw lines upon the earth?"

He glanced back at the city skyline, the Ferris wheel still turning, its slow rhythm contrasting with the chaotic pace of human life. The man couldn’t help but feel the weight of the world pressing down on him. Humanity had so much potential, so much power to create beauty, yet it seemed intent on destroying itself and its surroundings.

But then, he realized something. Perhaps the answer wasn’t in asking "what" humanity was doing but in recognizing what it "could" do instead. The divisions weren’t permanent—they were choices. The destruction wasn’t inevitable—it was preventable.

As he stood there, he felt a quiet resolve building within him. Change wouldn’t come easily, nor would it come all at once. But it could start with one person, with one choice. A single ripple that, over time, could grow into something far greater.

He took a deep breath and turned away from the river, walking back toward the city. The Ferris wheel continued its steady rotation, an enduring reminder of life’s cycles. But this time, the man didn’t feel as helpless.

The earth didn’t have to remain divided. The conflicts, the destruction—they were not destiny. They were the result of choices, and choices could be changed.

And so, as he walked away, the man carried with him a single, powerful thought: perhaps, if enough people chose differently, the earth would stop feeling like a battleground and start becoming the home it was always meant to be.

Above him, the clouds parted just slightly, letting the sunlight stream through. And for a brief moment, it felt as though the sky itself was hopeful.