The Last embers

a poem about isolation in an apocalyptic world.

 

The Last Embers

 

 

 

What happened to the city I loved so much?

The trees and grass, the concrete palaces that touched the heavens.

Life was different, so different back then.

 

The fire burns its self away; I sit and ponder life’s chessboard moves.

 

Damp grey walls listen as my thoughts crack and creak, spark and splinter, like the logs on this weak and lonesome fire.

 

If only the cement could keep the walls standing a few moments longer,

Just a bit longer,

Just a bit longer,

Just a lifetime longer.

 

There is nobody left to listen to my inner turmoil,

 Who’s going to remember my life?

 Only these decrepit walls can keep the secrets of a boy’s youth. 

 

Not much heat left now the fires almost out,

Soon the cold of the wasteland will drift through the rubble.

The train is about to depart all aboard, one way no return.

 

I can smell winter in the air, like damp wood and

Dying leaves.

 

Can you see me now my dear friend; are you peering down on this lost soul?

I miss your pale blue eyes. 

 

What great images fly, drift and tumble in my mind?

If I could just hang on to one for the remainder of time.

 

Saturdays at the cinema.

A glimpse of a woman’s succulent breast.

The kitchen of my childhood an Aladdin’s cave of food.

My wife, my wife, my wife.

 

What was that sound out there, could be someone?

I wonder who made this shirt I’m wearing. It was new and fresh once just like me.

 

The light has gone, the black hole has engulfed this land.

Its dark and dusty, a cold glass of beer right now would do the trick, just a quick one before it’s too late. 

It’s all just lost memories for this last man, now I must rest.