By: Kristyn Garza
I travel in this austere,
peering around every corner—
Alone I wander—
not a trace.
I travel through the streets in the night
I float aimlessly,
finding not a soul,
intoxicated with my own despair.
Dour is the world that which dealt me my role.
Suffocating is the cold-hearted air.
Where people once were,
now have ceased to be.
Where joy once stood,
now stands desolation.
In a dismal plea
Waiting for someone to bring sensation.
Though I wander the streets in dejection
it is not I who has lost perception.