Post Apocalypse

We walk hand in hand

down long, listless corridors,

stopping to stare out of windows,

sealed shut,

air tight,

against the deadly atmosphere.

Clinical white walls

save us from burning up.

Injections bolster our immune systems

against radiation

and certain types of mutations,

now common.

 

Endless corridors,

clean and ordered.

Purified air

pumped in through invisible vents,

keeps the temperature regulated,

never a breeze stirs.

We are kept alive,

but only the touch of your hand

reminds me I am living.

Only the look in your eyes

reminds me of a life before.

Everything here is hollow,

sterile and dead

and soon,

we shall be only plastic facsimiles.

3D printed automatons.

Vacuous renditions of humanity’s ghost.

 

I don’t know when I realized

that our mouths no longer move to speak,

and our footsteps no longer echo

as we walk

hand in hand down endless white corridors,

staring out windows

that mirror what we have become.

 

HG – 2016

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