I haven't slept in days, neither have I nibbled on dead rats or rotten corpses, a drop of water could do but maybe it's too much to ask for when war reigns. My legs shake, limbs protruding out, the skin and flesh seems same as it goes dark slowly as if they were put on fire and all that remained were charred bones that shake in balancing the weight of the skeleton self, the sky seems a mix of dark red today but the dark seems brighter then the red, the water around is nothing but crimson. What a colour play! There was a time when the sky seemed blue like the ocean, clear blue and birds chirped aloud sitting on tree tops, green one's, there were forests and sand and beauty but then it came like a blow, something small yet huge, cemented pavements, plastic all around and more and more, it went on untill the forests were lit on fire and people started dying in peculiar ways, suffocated, bodies burning yet no fire, anxious yet no cause, destruction seemed more but it was less then before the blow, like air it came, ruptured the land, it's barren now, half burnt, the tress have no leaves but only half burnt trunk remains stuck on land. I've not slept in days, nor have I nibbled on dead rats or rotten corpses but I've not died yet, I'm there, close, looking for a grave but haven't got one so to rest in peace, you're a magician if I please and I write to you a future me, change it, change it all still you can, it's the apocalypse make it the dawn, let it be a genesis before destruction strucks.