Placid days become history

Stomachs rumble excessively

With what remains no mystery


Lucid barren lands lay

Devoid of the living

Stocks thin like reed

Reeking like sewage dumps


The breathing souls left

Wished their lives were taken

Their emptiness consumes them

Movement becomes a luxury

And reflexes an impossibility


Of mortals that could speak

Whispered lowly voices

Begging for only remnants

and as seconds swiftly pass

Longed not to see the sun rise


Of those that could walk

Paraded long distances

Until their limbs bled

Searching for natures gift

And mythical safe havens


One of life’s greatest trials

A survival of the fittest

A matter of life and death