Even the angels will fall.

The streets are empty and barren,
The pavement quiet and bleak,
Streetlights stand out like tall shining beacons,
The asphalt is as still and dark as it always is.
An anguished cry can be heard in the distance,
It never lets up never falters never changes,
The pain and horror of it all uttered in primal sound,
A banshees wail to haunt these silent streets.
We walk along the broken roads,
Struggling on towards nowhere,
Travelling on and on and ever onwards,
Destination and location always unknown.
The buildings loom over us threateningly,
Sometimes one collapses and dust clouds soar up,
Billowing out before settling down to Earth,
Coating all of us in a thin layer of grit.
Still we keep trudging on through the filth and mud,
The ruins trash and debris of a fallen society,
The legacy of our fathers and our mothers,
The legacy of our teachers and our destroyers.

More buildings are toppling over and crashing to the ground,
An elevated railway that once carried people through the city,
Crumbling supports refusing to carry the weight any longer,
It slowly falls into the still water of the deserted harbor.
For a short while we take shelter in an abandoned store,
Find old canned food that hasn’t been looted yet,
Heat it over a fire made of old magazines,
Eat something for the first time in weeks.
Soon everything will have crumbled to dust,
Burned up in the fires of urban decay,
All the once proud structures will be gone,
The bridges drowned in the rivers they once crossed.
We walk slowly and despondently,
On feet clad in ragged old shoes or boots,
We are weary and have come so far yet reached nothing,
Before long I am walking on my own.
Past the burnt out husk of what was once a school,
Along the concrete edge between land and rivier,
My knees buckle and I fall to the ground,
Never to get up again.

Something speaks to me in my mind,
I can hear it vaguely so I strain to listen,
Nothing is clear except for one whispered sentence,
‘All has fallen and now even the angels will fall..’