It’s not quite light as I step out today.
Back on the road I’d left the night before.
When it had become too dark to see my way.
When my legs, my body and my mind were sore.
The only sound there is comes from my feet.
No car engines revving as I walk along.
Not even the chance of another person to meet.
The birds have all gone, there is no morning song.
The road is damp, just like the clothes on my back.
Dead trees offer scant cover from the never-ending mist.
Everything I own is wet and carried in my pack.
Thoughts of what I have lost makes me clench my fist.
Perhaps today my journey will finally finish.
My shoes are almost worn through from all of the miles.
But with each passing day my hopes diminish.
All of the clocks now are missing their dials.
What cruel twist of fate has left me alive?
Everywhere death has been, it has come and gone.
Am I really the only person that did survive?
The only living creature to remember when the sun shone.
A noise in the distance brings a spring to my stride.
I run up the road to the crest of a hill.
Disappointment in what I see is like a knife to my side.
Doubling over to retch, I feel such a chill.
A collapsed building’s dust is what I can see.
No human appears, there is no cause for cheer.
I carry on walking past houses so crumbly.
Then I see the end of this road is close, is near.
It ends at a place where once there was a wife.
I walk to the place where my home used to be.
It has gone, disappeared along with the rest of my life.
I let out a scream and I walk into the sea.