Toxic Threesome – Conflict, Acid Rain, and Desperation

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Scars of conflict painted across the darkened doorways and alleyways

Burnt, bombed, hacked, shot, stabbed, and otherwise inflicted

Piles of tangled wire, rusty fencing, and collected rubble standing guard

Soot from countless abandoned fires hangs in the air like nuclear fallout

Pitted and potholed asphalt roadways lined with husks of ancient automobiles

Little remains except for the rust covered frames and the occasional skeleton

The stench of cordite still lingering in crumbling concrete of the archaic bunkers

Interrupted by the sticky metallic winds that only spread oppression and despair

Shadowing high above, a few orange clouds gather in the pale-yellow skies

Mostly ignored, but when the rumbling rolls unchecked across the wasteland

Attention means the difference between survival and the inevitable

Everyone seeks shelter as the first drops of acid rain sporadically make contact

Smoke rising as each sludge-colored drop makes contact with the hardpack

A toxic stew of methane, formaldehyde, benzene, sulfur dioxide, and heavy metals

Exposure means an agonizing death; flesh burns like the canvas of a phosphorus artist

Too many lives lost from the instinctual need to engage in conflict

Perhaps something reminiscent from those day’s centuries ago; long before the event

The collusseums and arenas filled with the dead and the dying

Too brave to come in out of the rain, and too dead for second chances

Just another splinter in time in a place without pendulums

Desperation a constant reminder that nothing will ever be the same  

Moments of being are meaningless, existence a muted charade  

Control, simply a word from days long since past

 

 

 

 

 

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