Eyes opened when it was still dark,
the night was whining making herself stark.
the moon was shining high, blowing winds in retard,
sun trapped between two hills in his backyard.
confusion persisted whether dawn followed or dusk preceded
somehow night and day felt succeeded.
in his own little yurt he felt uneasy,
the same old part of the globe once made him cosy.
the world had changed,
adaptation was far fetched.
a sudden cold wave had replaced the warm tropical breeze
somehow life around him had deceased.
where were the people who once resided the city?
the foul dead soil was feeling pity.
the scene was disturbing,
as if he was the left trash after a disaster curbing
his mind was all but numb,
no wonder he had throat choked of lump
somehow the calamity, the unknown and the nature had mated
in his own world, he was left alone, alienated…