Roads

One day the world blew up

As its bits and pieces floated back down like ash

The inhabitants who weren’t ash tried to piece together what had happened

Humanity died and literature too

There wasn’t any food or sun or warmth but the gray in the sky reined over for miles

And those who weren’t busy surviving were foolish enough to wish for luxuries unattainable

And enemies of new were born from old faces

Because new faces were no longer born

Morality depleted with the birds

Sleep wasn’t a function but a gift and dreams were a prayer rarely answered

Every man was the last man on earth

So when death finally indulged thankful be to the ghost

And cursed be to the only man left to wander each morn and bury each passer

On down the road