post apocalyptic in real time

the wind whips the surface of the lake

making it look uninhabitable; a sickly brown, over flowing. beneath it’s waters all of the once living creatures float aimlessly. at the mercy of its acidic currents.

the tops of dead trees ascend the greencaps of the waves, lining the shore line. a withering militia guarding the unsuspecting from entering  its virulent tides.

Mother Earth, unrelenting in her protection, after all that we have done to destroy her.

 

p.g.

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