What's that? A
Glow on the edge, with
Smoke rising cloudward.
Renewed hope,
I trudge forward
Through the waste. Alas,
Disappointment awaits,
Since I have only found the
Sacrificial zone.
Cinders and ashes,
Bone and smoke,
The engines and the
Hidden furnaces where
Our erstwhile
Commodities were
Forged. Now spewing forth
Chaotically, yet no less
Uselessly than before,
While the former things,
Divided and mute,
Serve still to distract.