"Fallout Shelter"- a poem by Nathaniel Stelchook-Grey

The dying weeds shriek

Their cries of agony lost in the wind that is haling down from the heavens

Winds unwind as their rein of fury is released

This wasteland is barren

Empty except for the weeds and the dunes that stretch across the Alps of nothingness

Life does not flourish here

This misanthropic world thrives off of human suffering

Of greed, gluttony, and desire

It did not die by its hand

It died due to the torment we humans cause every day

To ourselves

To our world

To each other

The world is already dead

Fallout Shelter

2.19.24

10:29 AM

-Nathaniel Stelchook-Grey, sophomore