Lost Woman In A Lost World Poem by Jean-Francois Denis

A white sheet covering a window,
In the wind, flowing.
A light collides,
With the white, becoming blinding.

Inside, empty like a desert,
Dirty concrete walls.
Her feet on the dirt,
Of the devastated Earth.

She wears only a fur skirt,
Nothing to cover her head.
Her inside is hurt,
A cold is digging her grave.

She is walking on a thin line,
Seperating life to death.
Fears in her mind,
Emotionless, she waits her last breath.

Outside, the sound of silence,
Dust flying up in the air.
Shattered and ruined houses,
Burnt cars, no-one nowhere.

Suddenly a sound thrills her ears,
Noisy door opening.
A man crawls out with tears,
A loud shrieking.

Legless, bloodshed, a cry,
Living his last instant.
He flips on his back and looks at the sky,
Prays for his daughter as he closes his eyes.

She kneels on the ground,
A tear falls on her thigh.
Her heart in anguish,
With her broken mind, she says goodbye.

Walked for miles and days,
Nothing seemed to be alive.
Now she is tired, weak and in a craze,
She knows she will never survive.

Breathing dust,
She creeps.
Until she gets lost,
In the middle of an unknown street, she sleeps.