Upon a Rock

I walked behind them, 
     Wanting to
            Tap into
                A bit of what wisdom they carried with them.

Strangers in my motherland,
Looking at
     Every Rock,
     Every exposed Earth!
Well, through their strange metallic EyEs, razor
Sharp precision exuding from behind them.

Then I was either illumined or totally dumbed when
One of the younger ones, trained the attention of his peers upon
One particular
     Facet
Of an elaborately weathered rock up 
On a hill, directly before us.

In a voice CloakeD in LEAD-heavy certainty, he spoke thus:
     The Africans,
     Wanted information
     To remain free!
I never slept again.