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Plains of Eternity

It’s not the ones who die that suffer the most, it’s the ones left in the wastelands. He was one of them. left in the plains of existence in his isolation he wondered why he still existed, what was the point in fighting for tomorrow when all tomorrow really held was more hours of despair. Out across the grey sands, shadowing mountains and ruins of humanity that together created the plains of eternity, lay the black sea. There he remained, the last vestige of mankind. The last Human on Earth. With no more tears to shed, no more energy to scream at the gods that had abandoned him and no more hope, he fell to his knees. Acceptance. He finally had to accept the fact that this was the natural conclusion they had done this to the planet and as such they deserved the aftermath. The dying crust of the planet was evidence enough that his fight was over, yet still deep down he felt that burning pride. Somewhere inside of him kept at bay was the resolve he had once fought without mercy for. As much as this had pushed him, how could such a resolve push back the bindings of reality? The planet was coming to terms with its own death, so why couldn’t his body… no… his soul let him surrender to that same fate? His weapon fell unacknowledged from his grip and loosely to join the ashes that had once been ripe with existence. Trying to pull himself back up now would be useless his body was all for making the ash sand its final resting place. His eyes didn’t so much as look but more settled on the empty horizon, he thought that maybe somewhere out there he wasn’t the only being left to suffer then he remembered this world wasn’t a dream. His world was the closest thing in his existence to a hell and a part of him even wished it was just a hell, that way he could still hope that a better existence still existed…


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