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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2092952
Rated: E · Other · Philosophy · #2092952
An abstract look: Life on Earth after the end of mankind.
A mountain of waste, under the grey skies.

No forests, no ocean. The horizon is all Void.

Could there be life there?

No movement. No wind.

Only metal. Rock. Void. And death.

And bones. So much bones. Human and animal. Charred, or reduced to powder. Clean or ravaged by the endless wars.

Death.

Everyone, everything.

Everywhere.

For how long did the Earth remain dead? No one was here to count the years. The centuries. The millennials. The eternity.

But suddenly, a movement. On the top of the highest mountain of waste and death.

A little cluster of clean white bones.

Moving on their own.

A small bird's skeleton rises from the bones of it's entire kind.

The skeleton bird's orbits are pointed towards the dark clouds. As if...

As if it desperately wanted to see. To have eyes again. To be alive.

The skeleton is covered by Dust and Ash, weighing it down.

The two daughters of the reign of men. The only thing that mankind ended up giving to Earth.

The only thing that proves it's past existence.

But...

The bird opens it's wings. Color fills the wasteland as feathers slowly grow on the clear white bones.

Blood fills new veins. A heart appears in the storm, and beats. Eyes appear from the Void and glow inside it's orbits.

The bird shakes the dust and the ash off his new feathers.

The bird is alive again.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2092952