To where the lands are made with trash,

I travel to kill the last Murderous Thought.

From the New Lands I take off in my ship,

to the darkened Old World that used to be.

Below me, a lake made of sludge I see.

A strong gravitational pull,

makes me land before I know.

Heavy in my protective gear,

I trudge through as best as I can

making for the gray stretch of land.

Before my eye lay...sand?

No, ashes only sit upon this land

of trash piled knee-deep and high,

some mountains reaching the darkened skies.

I take cover for it has begun to rain

acid that threatens to melt my skin.

I have on my protective gear

so, I have nothing to fear,

except the Howlers in the forest that come

to make me their meal.

They can bite through metal,

tear apart steel,

and they have no sympathy for mercy

and only live on instinct

and I run through the forest and it's giant webs

made from monstrous spiders,

until I finally come to where the city

of the Old World still sits.

The Old World was my grandfather's home,

that he had once told me was wonderful and bright,

until the devastation left from many wars' fights

claimed the land and turned it to ruins,

and into a dump for trash and corpses

that no one mourned for there were too many.

Loved ones were burned without proper burial,

and flies never ceased

eating the flesh and rot and getting into people's food,

causing horrific, incurable disease.

I trek through the garbage muck,

feeling hot underneath my helmet and gear,

making my way to the center of the Old World.

I pass through the rusted metal giants of ancient structures

whose skeletons are all that is left of the grandeur

that Grandfather recalled at his deathbed.

I can see steam rising and green smoke fuming

from piles of garbage filled with decades-old food

that only scavenging beasts see as good.

I finally come upon the center.

A looming mountain of rot stands

between me and my goal for coming to this land.

Sweat beads my forehead that I cannot wipe.

Taking off my helmet would mean Death would strike.

So, I lick what sweat trickles down to my mouth,

and climb the mound of entangled limbs,

some still with flesh for Howlers to feast,

I grab onto what I can, trying not to think

that these used to be hands and feet.

Ancient, rotted bones crack,

I slip,

but only for a moment and regain my balance.

My heart is pounding hard now,

I can hardly breathe, but I must keep going!

The sun is high and white in the darkened sky,

such a contrast so strange in this Old World.

Nothing of the past can be seen.

Nothing of the riches that Grandfather had told me.

He talked of tall crystal buildings

with gardens on their roofs

and around them overflowed with nature's beauty,

overpowering us all with splendor and wonderful colors.

He talked of how safe and peaceful it was here

and no one would ever think of leaving this Paradise.

Not until greed infested the land,

turning it over to the hands of Murderous Thoughts.

Sinful deeds permeated the households,

turning love into hate, and peace into war.

And in one single night,

the land collapsed.

People died faster than anyone could count.

Garbage built once the Leader was killed,

turning a Paradise into disgust and disorder,

and everyone turned to ruthless murder.

Yet, there were those who didn't succumb to Murderous Thoughts,

and kept clear of staining hands with the blood of strangers.

There were those that didn't believe in the deceit of False Hopes,

and kept their minds free from the fantasy

that everything you wished for, would one day come true.

These stable-minded survivors,

like Grandfather,

escaped the land to a new one and built a tall fence,

so, no one could get in

and the peace and beauty could be protected.

They called it Humanity.

=========

Note: Author here.

Welcome to the Nihility Series, a series of story type poetry. As you saw in the Index, there are five poems that make up this series. Let me know your interpretations in the comments. Vote on the ones you like :)