it is a strange awakening
to silence
all around not a sound can be heard
no birds singing in the trees outside
no flies buzzing around the room
or on the windowpane
not even a breath of wind stirs outside
still and silent
and alone

dim orange sunlight seeps through
the dusty glass panes of the window
it looks cold
the way its light is so feeble
in a panic you throw off the soiled blankets
run to the front of your hovel
to behold the same dismal sight
the sun seems tired
its long slanting rays chilling your bones
as the huge disk spans the skies
even though it is daytime
you can see the stars
in the dark bluish-black sky to the horizons

a sound to quicken your seizing mind
it is but the stirring of a fine stifling dust
into your lungs
it is hard to breath even without the dust
the air is thin and stale

there is no vegetation
well nothing alive anyway
any plants there once were have become dried up and brown
the bare trees look ancient
as through carved in stone
and fragile enough to snap at the slightest pressure
all colour has been washed out
leaving only dull greys, browns, and reds

the dust is making you thirsty
but there is no water to be found
with a panic you realize there is no food either
you will have to die soon
you begin to cough uncontrollably

you welcome the flash of green when you see it
it travels fast
emanating from a swift black object
as it approaches you hear its whining engines
protesting at the abuse they are taking
several more smudges of black
instantaneously engage the first in air combat

brilliant green lasers light the sky
a feast for your colour starved eyes
metal turns to vapour as the fierce battle continues
there remain two victors when the fighting stops
the sky where the battle took place glows dark purple
from the charged ions that were once airships

the sun is beginning to sink into the mountains to the east
it was not always this way
it was a result of the war
the dim light fades but the scene does not darken
as far as your eyes can see
a pale greenish-yellow light glows
from the ground
the blackened mountains
the very air you are breathing
it all glows

you retch over your scaly hands and feet
over sores that will not heal
you hold your hairless head in your hands and weep
tears of joy!
it will not be long now
you will soon be freed from your lonely hell

you can see it now
drifting over the shimmering wastes
it walks slowly
and deliberately
this black figure
it is in no hurry
and you are patient
for one does not rush death