The wounded man

He seemed to be alone

The only survivor

Surrounded by ashes

It was a cold and dead winter

Lost as human kind but was he still human

He was standing there facing this absolute chaos

He tried to walk enduring the wind

Slapping around his injured face

Blood torn flesh and dust

Were appearing all over his face

Treading on the ground like if his

Body was a huge burden to carry

This walk seemed eternal for the wounded man

Walking toward what he thought was a shelter

He could barely say if it was real

Oh god he wished it was real

He fought to walk enduring the wind

Striking right in his desperate face

Blood torn flesh and dust

Were mixed all over his face

Stumbling on the ground cause his

Body was such a huge burden to carry

The shelter was becoming closer

While he felt his body was quitting

Falling down the nuclear ground

Was penetrating his rags

He looked up and stared at the shelter

It was nothing but an illusion

This slow end seemed eternal for the wounded man

He struggled to stay awake imploring that his vain

Hopes were real

Blood torn flesh and dust

Were covering

His motionless face

The Wounded man

Now belongs

To the sand