Hi, this has been reformatted. Same content, but a different structure
A small charred cap lay in the dust,
a remnant of a time before,
of a life before,
of a loving nature,
knitted by old hands.
Placing the cap in a pocket,
she moves on,
still searching
for survivors
for anything of use.
Brown and ash stretch for miles.
Little was left in the wake of the four horsemen.
The emptiness is dotted by
hollowed buildings
and snags littering the landscape.
There had been life
not so long ago,
Demeter's fields blossomed
beneath her daughter's feet.
The wind blew lightly,
murmuring a remembrance
of what the world once was.
The horsemen had been released
by mistake,
the end was an accident.
Aries minions took it upon themselves to retaliate.
Bitter cold and blazing heat followed the horsemen.
Who released them is a secret kept by Hades.
Who ceased to matter to those left behind to live.
Time cannot be turned back,
it can only move forward.
Those left move with time
from place to place,
searching,
scavenging,
surviving.
There is no going back
to undo what was done,
the horsemen had come and gone.
Existence consists of moving forward,
searching,
scavenging,
surviving.
None truly live,
life is a privilege;
it provides happiness and security.
Hope becomes lost to instinct;
only the strength of will
saves the survivors from madness.
She enters a hollow building,
empty save for a burned chair
and an old book
whose outer pages
flake off,
into the wind.