I was 15 when the bombs came. 

So young, so brave
the end came
like a thief in the night.
Taking what was rightfully ours. 

They rained down like tears from heaven
Retribution for our sins. 

Everything turned to flames.
including me.

My home was gone
and my loved ones
they changed too
we were all changed that day. 

Mutants, they called us
Freaks.
Unlucky people who couldn't make it to the shelters on time. 

We were shunned;
used for our gifts
and our curse. 

and the monster
the man who set the world on fire
who caused all of this
he wanted us for our mutations
thinking only of himself
and the power it would grant him. 

We were hunted
for what made us unique. 

So we went into hiding.

The streets were gone.
The ones I tread,
the ones I loved,
all rotted away and turned to dust. 

That day,
rubble and ash filled my senses
that sent me into a spiral
as I lay upon the ground
and wept in despair. 

Humanity really fucked it up that day. 

The screams and the cries of the forgotten
the ones deemed the trash
was but a mournful song
lost in the ash. 

I just lay there
among the chaos
waiting for someone to come
for someone to save me

Until I realized only I could save myself. 

So much grief and pain
my family,
my country,
everything was gone. 

But we could still rebuild.
There was always a chance,
always a choice,
always a way through. 

Amongst the loss and the pain,
there was a glimmer of hope
and that meant everything to me. 

I saw the light
but I couldn't bring myself to go
so the light went inside me. 

Humanity's darkest night
became my reason for survival
my vow of strength
to keep going
despite the odds

They had taken so much
but it didn't matter.
I was still marching on.
Through the rubble, ash, and dust.