The pod releases its icy grip, mist flowing out,
She tumbles to the floor,
confused and full of doubt,
What happened while she slept to the world before?
Silence answers, no buzz or laughs anymore.
No roar of traffic, no human song,
Just the wind’s haunting breath as it creeps along.
She wanders out, into tendrils and bloom,
Roots invading walls, nature resumed,
Staking its claim on civilization’s remains,
With no protests or resistance to its campaigns.
The city is now a shell claimed by what grows,
Transforming slowly, the ebb and flow,
Of a planet moving on without man,
Reborn into something beyond human plans.
She searches for remnants of that busy din.
Some echo of crowded streets, proof it had been.
Not for names, but for the sounds,
That marked mankind’s lost stomping grounds.
In the distance, low unnatural cries.
Slice through the heavy silence and rise
The wind lifts her hair, creatures creep near
Whatever now inhabits this world – she knows to fear.
