The panda walks.

Step by step, through this post-apocalyptic world.

He is searching for the food that was once given to him hourly, for the the water that was available daily, and the comfort that was there all around the clock. He wont find it.

And he will continue to walk.

His paws land in piles of ashes that were once trees, he doesn’t know it. His nose smells the sweet scent of houses burning down, he doesn’t realize it. His ears feed him the eerie silence of an empty world, he doesn’t care.

And he will continue to walk.

He strolls past monuments and statues, they don’t pay attention. He steps over the ice, the water beneath doesn’t notice. He glides through the cities where billions of lives once thrived, nobody stops and stares.

And he will continue to walk.

He longs for eyes to gaze at him, none ever will.

He longs for death to come painlessly, a wish that wont come true.

Yet he will continue to walk.