The End

He was only twenty-two
When he woke alone that night
Barely remembering the past
Of the air-born nuclear fight

He barely even felt alive
Waking on the outskirts of explosion
His heart ached and his stomach churned
As he gazed on the heavy corrosion

Buildings crumbled, bridges caved
Pellets of ash fell from the sky
His eyes stung and his lungs burned
It would have been simpler to die

Everything was gone
Had anyone survived?
Did it really make a difference,
When the end already arrived?

He pushed himself up
Made his way to the wreckage ahead
Homes had fallen, people were scattered
There wasn’t a sign of hope, all were dead

His whole body ached
What was the use in his attempt?
All around were put to death
What was it that made him exempt?

He had to move on
He wouldn’t give in to death
A hope for a reason didn’t exist
But he would fight until his very last breath

The farther he went, the worse he would see
Rather than crumpled homes, there was only ash
Piles of grey and black sands, the solidified smoke
So much damage, that had come in a flash

There was nothing to do
So he turned the other way
Backtracking his steps
But he didn’t give up on the day

The world had reached it’s end
But this man wasn’t quite done
He would continue looking for light
With or without the sun



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