Survivors

The sound of music
ceases from the air.
My ears are aching for it,
speaking to the
synapses within.

the sudden silence
reminds me of someone i have yet to meet.

Does he exist,
beyond the pale?
Fighting against the norms that keep us all
maintained?

I will rise up to meet him,
from the ashes,
and we will dance
on the dust of civilazation
and laugh at our good fortune,

to have found each other
and survived.

or, perhaps,
just to have survived.

Brittle gunfire
will be our wedding toll,
and cold concrete our bed.
We will exist in the moment,
fighting

to survive.

And the moon will shine bright upon the sea
as we fall into it
bitter with thirst.
And the sun will burn hot upon the sand,
as we traverse,
wander,
survive.

And after all of this,
alone in the dark,
we will confide,
the last of these few.
Survivors.