The Utopia

The Paradise

The city is quiet and desolate. The trees have been burnt to tiny timbers and the ground is black like charcoal. It’s empty and trashed streets scream for life as the roads fall into a withering state of disrepair. It almost seems as if hell careened from the swollen, burning depths that it came from and exploded out on to the world. All that is left of this once verdant and graceful land is a barren, lifeless, and cruel world. The only thing that moves in this concrete jungle is the looming buildings that were once buzzing with life as they corrode in to dust. Time itself has seemed to halt in this eternal wasteland. The city is quiet with an overbearing hint of emptiness. In this land not even the wind dares to make even an utter of a sound. Any person who looked upon this toppled utopia would mistake it for the city dumps, as clumps of garbage and rusted cars fill the streets. It almost seemed as if the devil was within that tiny little bomb, scorching out of the sky and in to the land. One bomb, one paradise, hell on earth.