Today is the beginning of a new day in the year 21 from the Armageddon (AD). Things have changed a lot since finishing fifth and eighth warfare nuclear war. The world is not what it was now only a memory that is brought by the wind.
Miro on one side and down the street and there is nothing but filth buried in the dirt. I sigh with sadness as I watch those streets that are nothing more than rubble, old shopping malls are only a handful of broken glass, a dream destroyed in tears of blood. Why all ended well? The land is no longer what it was before, now there are only stray writhing in pain on the streets, lying staring at the sky waiting for the final.
road submerged in the steam coming out of floor drains one of those strange beings plagued by refusing to appear to human eyes, or what remains of them. My face filled with sadness deflects her agonizing feelings toward my tattered clothes, those that seem to sweep the floor on which way every day at home, that ghetto full of poor souls corrupted by the pain and abject poverty, perhaps better known as "the purgatory of the poor."
Every time I go to that place I think, engulfed in sorrow, what have I done to receive such a sin, what did all to be poor, what we did to be the food of the rich. Just my soul and my heart does not get answers when roaming between those wet streets full of sinful souls for no reason. Where is the truth I seek? Where is the reason why we run such a fate? Thousands of questions plaguing my mind worn by depression. Murmur in low voices "With so much sadness in my soul and I can not mourn," although those words are lost in the quiet streets where you only hear the echo of the soul of a dead unlucky.
Steps and steps echo endlessly in the darkness of night where I am just lost lanterns lit in the corridors of stone bathed in blood and forgotten, while my soul thinks of broken promises by old buildings that now are nothing more than a lament. Though I remember an old text that is only a fable, a device that was forgotten in the world after 100 years of endless struggles, no one knows who speaks, is untranslatable. Or, rather, is untranslatable for the poor, the ignorant masses that are only beings with body shell.
remember ever having heard the contents of that text, according to my mother, they were just old letters professing broken promises impossible to meet and old ideals that condemned a man to go to a building governed by its own enemy, another man.
hear a strange noise behind me. With fear running completely forgetting the fact that I'm going with my bare feet on millions of glass scattered across the cobblestone streets. My thoughts soon become unanswered questions falling into my typical "why run if you prefer to die at this moment?, Why is this burning desire to keep breathing if my suffering is such that it would rip my own skin?". Immediately I ran and hid in the darkness of a nearby alley while watching two black figures as they walked away because they could not find in the dead of night. I could not go to the ghetto with my wounds, could not allow to find mine and give them a fateful end.
But before he could keep running I felt someone put his hand on my waist and pulled me back. Just remember flashing eyes the color of the moon and the smell of snuff mixed with a sweet fragrance.
When I did open my eyes it was too late. Was locked behind bars thick shiny metal. This was a chapter in my life that still would not see or live. My mother had talked about this before being caught before he died and to me is about to happen, I had another last look at the sky and the white shroud waiting to fall on my face and my skin white spotted brown.
mirages I looked between my tears. He was chained to the cage of my sins, my sin of being poor and being treated like cattle. He knew what would happen now, drugs in my body, drugs of all style. Must only be carried fattened for slaughter later, for my blood to drain from the gutters of the final room.
grabbed my hands shaking my head and cried as I could, I would not die, even wanted to breathe, want to live no matter the consequences ... But no matter how defiled my body, as I refuse to die, was my destiny to die that day in that place, under thousands of tubes of glass.
I last saw this strange blood-red sky and headed for my downfall, to the place where my horns cut and tear my body to be eaten by human unclean, those corrupted souls that destroy the earth they decided to believe in fantasies.
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