Desolate World

The black, vacant road stretches out over the bare horizon

and the once blue sky is now grey.

I trudge through the scorching heat that beats on my back

with the wind blowing my brittle hair across my somber face.

I lick my dry, cracked lips in an attempt to get some moisture but it’s no use.

Water has gone scarce and there is no more rations to be given out.

Buildings have burned down and dreams have shattered,

like the aftermath of a bullet hitting a mirror that used to reflect our own desires.

The stench of my own sweat and filth engulfs my senses. Making me wish

that I was back home where it was safe.

A bitter taste rises up in my mouth and I struggle to keep it down.

There’s no time for fantasies.

This world, this place, is not what it used to be.

Happiness and security were most important

then they turned to greed and betrayal after the war started.

Trying to control the land and people rebelled, the government issued an attack on its citizens.

Now it’s all about starvation and dehydration. Death.

Smiles turned to cries and laughs turned to screams.

Water turned to blood and rain turned to tar.

Diamonds turned to dust and the world that I had once known

is now gone.

There’s no rest for the weak in a world full of ruin.

Survival is the only thing that we can do now

It’s all we have left.

Abstained Thoughts

           He’s coming.

It was raining when I last saw him

the last time that he would ever come home

and wrap me in his arms.

I can still hear his whispers that echo down the halls

reminding me of happier times when the world had peace

and no wars.

           He’s coming.

When he was home, there were no wars.

No pain or risk, only love and safety.

It was us against the world and nothing could take that away.

Instilled in the bed and the clocks on the walls that hold our laughs,

our time spent is time that I never wanted to end.

           He’s coming.

The stars on his green uniform spoke valor, fortitude

showcasing the danger and risk in the battle on the world outside

and I wait.

Wait for the wooden door that will never open to his blue eyes

unleashing his bright smile that always tamed my darkest hurricanes

and made them rainbows.

           He’s not coming.