Rocks.
Just rocks.
His hand opens and the rocks crew and sound as they fall to the ground.
Dust and blood all over him.
A creature lays dead at his feet.
His dog, his hound.
Rocks cover half its body.
They fell onto it when everything came down.
He doesn't cry, he doesn't fall.
He just stares at his companion.
It was old and slow but his companion nonetheless.
He glances people moving in the distance, survivors.
They're going forward.
The only direction that remains.
But he doesn't want to go forward
How could he?
He doesn't know what's there.
The only thing he's ever known is now laying dead.
There's no yelling
It stopped a while ago.
His ears are still pitching anyways, so he wouldn't know.
Dust and lost is the smell that floods the air.
Should he stay?
He sits on the ruin's floor.
His eyes moved from the corpse.
It's sunrise despite the looks.
as if the world mocks.
And what is there when there is none?
Rocks.
Just rocks.