A New Type

You and I are of a new type,

Arising from the ruins, a tribute to the past.

Our distressed, awkward bodies are unresponsive,

Dislocated from our brutal surroundings.

We are different from one another,

But of the same inner-most pore.

The darkness denies us the ability to see.

I reach out, but only feel emptiness,

Yet I know you are near.

I hear your short, nervous breaths amidst the smog.

I whisper, "What now?"

so softly I'm not sure you heard.

After a moment, you turn in silence

and wade off into the unknown.

I follow, for I know there is no other answer than this.