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Spiral
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The Capital In Ruins
On a cold spring day
after twenty years of sleep
he finally woke.
He washed his hands
in flowing waters
and started back home.
His arms were tired
and his hands were cold
but his feet led him on.
Everything looks so familiar.
could this broken place
be his home?
His tired eyes
take in the ruined landscape.
And he's not quite sure
if he's awake.
Where have all the people gone?
And where were his machines
when everyone lay dying?
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A bird's lonely cry breaks the silence then fades away.
while the buildings broken faces stare back at him.
And he sits quietly and watches nature creep over his city
while he tries to maintain the shambles of his life.
During his first week
he mourned his lost people
and searched for life.
With collected remnants
he rebuilt his house
and time marched on.
His heart it ached
and his mind went wild
but his feet led him on.
Everything looks so familiar
this must be his home.
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