We stand in the rain. Together, side by side, we have stood here in all weathers.

The summer’s sun parched our throats and burnt our skin until it was red and peeling, and still we stood.

In autumn, the wind blew leaves fallen from the ancient trees around us, which tangled in our hair. We bent with the gusts, and they passed us by.

Winter snows chilled our toes and fingers until they blackened, and we gave no ground.

Now, here is spring. Green shoots appear from the scorched, dark earth around us. New life, fed on the past, eagerly clawing upwards to restart the eternal cycle, unaware of the dangers.

We stand in the rain. We are fewer, damaged and broken, yet here we still stand, resolute until the end.

The acidic liquid burns as it trickles over our delicate skin. Stripping the layers toughened by the passage of time and weather. Dissolving the flesh that makes us who we are.

We stand in the rain, wrecks made of bones, and bear witness with silent screams to the final destruction of the human race.