Cursed With Life

Years go by, like a hot, dry summer breeze. Trees are scorched, no water to be found. Waves of heat, crashing against the earth, baking me to a crisp. I walk alone, in a world now all desert; deserted forever. I’ve roamed for years, decaying in life, yet never diminishing in it. Many cities have fallen, outstretched fingers crushed to dust, in a fist that is the world’s end. Not one greets me, for no one but me is around. I’m the last, I believe. I am cursed with life with no cure, no escape. I see no reason for this immortality, no reasin for this life, as relentless as it is. Above, in a mock sea so blue, so clear; the blazing sun. It beats down as if determined to kill me. But it cannot. I can’t die, though I’d appreciate it. Throat parched, joints sore, always in pain. I’m decaying in life, but not diminishing in it. I am cursed, cursed with life.