Forsaken
I am alone, a relict of old times, forgotten in the forest of the present.
My family died years ago, only cold concrete keeps company.
Alienated, I feel out of place.
My rotting limps click, waving a silent good-bye in the harsh winter breeze.
I stand here naked, stripped of my garment.
People passing by are laughing at me, pointing their fingers at this old fool, pinned to the ground, resilient against the ravages of time.
But even in my best gown, beautiful green during spring and summer, majestic red and yellow in fall, I do not fit in my surroundings.
My fellow neighbors have faded away, poisoned by the ghastly gases, disgorged by this diabolic engines, spitting their exhaust in our faces.
Slowly, the first shallow sunbeams are creeping up on my exposed body.
Another day of pain and loneliness. No escape from my tragedy.
The vast stony desert enveloping me is ever relentless, busy with itself, unaware of this old fellow.
Shrouded in my thoughts of the old times, when my family stood strong on this ground, I do not realize the vehicle moving in to me.
The white-orange devil creeps slowly and comes to a hold in front of me.
Busy workers descend the machine and I come to realize, that my final hour has arrived.
I feel relieved, my salvation seems near.
A last stroke of pain as they cut my strings to this cruel world, hungry teeth tearing my flesh.
With a loud sigh I finally fall, doomed to burn in blistering flames.
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