Hunger

When the End came,

this final End,

we were biting at our nails,

chewing on our lips,

tugging at the memories of our mothers skirts,

waiting the safe embrace of our long-dead fathers.

Greed had long left us hungry,

famine had devoured us;

thirst had left us dry,

our bodies shrivelling under the sun.

Hunger, conflict had scorched this earth, robbing

men of their hearts and us of our future,

our mothers raped, tortured, killed,

left to desiccate on this barren land,

ghosts they became,

ghosts of what was,

ghosts of what is.

We became carrion feeders,

teeth tearing at the souls of the dead,

sating our hunger with flesh,

our teeth grinding on their bones,

the bones the flesh of our mothers our fathers,

our brothers our sisters,

our friends, of strangers, of enemies -

for in us is a will to survive,

a will to live.

When only the living remained

we ate each other

and we began to eat ourselves,

one hungry mouthful at a time.

There are other predators,

those who are stronger than us.

The dogs are the worse,

savage in their packs,

as savage as we have become,

maybe always were.. 

I think they will inherit this earth;

they have the teeth for it,

the hunger.

Anna :o]

Kerry at Real Toads has us writing Speculative Fiction and above is my offering. 

If I were one of the last survivors in this possible future world, the dogs would worry me very much, oh so very much…

Also shared with the good folk at Poets United.  Cheers for hosting Mary.

Image:  Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Source:  Wellcome Images