It started as rumors, that it was something all of the imagination of mindless fables, made by those of scared of the unknown and the uncontrolled. Yet, it happened, slowly but surely it happened.

All what was the world known as the earth has become that as an alien’s land. Rocky, sandy, and endless trails of lands going high ends to know where, as ruins of homage lay wasted about. Buildings nothing but tilting towers; forest and waters dried and cracking from the nuked heat; fading shadows of bodies haunt the land, as the nimble feet walk on, as if nothing as happen.

Skies show anything but promising outcomes, blacken smog bleeds into the once blue and white sky, with hails of chemicals spread; thinning the air.

Wrecked this land has become, forgotten for pointless profits; flimsy fears; emotionless recollections of something that was never to come. One lone man seen it all, care little of how anything he would say, would change anything, but in a way, tried. In many ways to reach out and break others from the chains of hopelessness and nightmares, few understood, but many fought against the free thinking of this.

Eyes swelled in pity he became, in something overnight.

As the man, sat hunched over in his chair, hands covering the disappointment that marked his face, with white noise and alternating evaporation glows of his television, breaking the last news of all the truth, busted lamp hanged over him, as his lone companion in all this.

For that, who he thought were close, fell hard for the lies and never returned.

Counting quietly and eternally to the silence, eyes needing little to know what was before him, and what was not.

The man’s house nothing but rubble and ash around him, along with the lone grave of a large boulder, lay in rest all of his past for the sake of the future to never touch it. A sudden shake awoke him from his dazed state, shoulders slumping backwards to crane his head up to the face a distance blast.

Face still etched with disappointment, as when seeing the last bit of humanity gone by that fiery radiance of heated ruby, carroty, fair, and pallid gush of death, hated, greed, loveless, animalism of man’s last strike to earn back, wasted by a lazy and brainless thoughts that were never through.

In matter of minutes, that blast wills soon reach the man, with a heavy sigh, leaned into his seat, eyes closed. And; if not soon enough, waited to join the rest and maybe the earth will rewind what needs fixing and have the new life more ready than them.

All that was needed was limitless thoughts of doing it right.

The Alien Landscape by Gerald Scarfe

Made in the year; unknown

Location of when painted; unknown

Pink Floyd The Wall: The Alien Landscape

 

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