The Line

Apocalypse unforeseen, arrived without warning

Billions dead in an instant

Chaos, confusion

Disorder and disease left in its wake. The last poet speaks a

eulogy for an entire world

Forlorn and fearful, the remaining living

gathered in one long single file line

Hoping against hope for salvation, or, wishing for food and clean water

It stretched as far as the eye could see

Just beyond the dull grey horizon in both directions. The people of the line

knew not where they were headed, nor from whence they had came

Lamenting their fates

Marching in lockstep

Never slowing, never stopping

On borrowed time

Pushing forward to an unknown end

Questioning their decision

Regretting what they must do

Soon the line will reach its destination

The end will be reached

Under the cold, empty sky

Very few will make it that far

Without water, very few will make it even half way there. And the radiation, like a hundred powerful

X-rays, mutating DNA, and searing flesh

Yet some will make it to that place where the line finally ends

Zeus weeps for them even as he takes their souls to the world beyond