The searing, vicious wind bit at my skin
I tilted my head down and kept forward
A quick glance upwards offered barren hills
Cascading throughout the dystopia
My path consisted of a gravel road
The clouds above were a generic gray
An ominous black entity sat far;
Hinting at a destructive storm, looming.
I walked with an increasingly brisk gait.
My end goal laid between words never said
And feelings bottled up internally,
Twisting downwards on the cusp of despair