Lonely wanderer

Walking silently along the hard road
Grey sky and clouds overhead
Bitter winds whip the dry grass
Bare trees litter the world of the dead

Trudging down his weary path
His belongings tied to his back
Head bowed under the weight of his burden
Alone, lonely, bleak and black

Not a sound to be heard in this bare barren world
Naught but the harsh winds howling
The poisoned rain beating the packed earth
An endless barrage, within the soul is drowning

Where there is not dirt or dead leaves
Rusted metal and debris left from the world alive
There is rock and ice, far as the eye can see
In the land of the dead, who can survive?

Not a soul to be seen, its been many days
Since the last living person crossed his path
A bitter contest for food and water
Fuelled by desperation,  fear and wrath

Brief and furious the bloody encounter
No time for compassion or regret
Starvation justifies the frantic slaughter
In time, this too, he and the world will forget

Unforgiving, ruthless, relentless
Cruel was his terrible end
Left on the ground, bleeding, broken
Now truly he belongs to the world of the dead