Checkered Flag

Haggard forms of tired wanderers
Sting of flesh beaten raw
Storms of wind, rain, dust, ice
Pelting
puncturing the weary
Perforating pride and morale
Warm food and shelter are
But prestidigitation
Scorched mesa
Acid wetlands
Nuclear playground
Sustenance near sourceless
Blanket toxification of
hot flakey earthen crust
Magma flows from crumpled landscape
Seared sediment punctuated
by thick vines of fiery liquid heat
No passage through hell on earth
No bypass 
Hasty deliberations accented by
Pustules burst sickly ochre
Winces not heard by
Ears inflamed and crackling
The pitiful state of our salvation
Numbers dwindle to
Less than minimal
No longer a nation
A community
A group
A handful
Penultimate homo sapiens
Stares screaming through
Sockets left with charred nerves
Collapsed on dead earth
finish line for the human race