A cadaver spurts out blood feigning life
Still warm from a last night’s nuke fright
The hands clinging on to a phantom gun
No legs present, so probably not a Russian
The perfect dead body, free from mutilation
Only the gun stolen, still has his TAG token
I pick it up and scan it under the microscan
Tears down my cheeks, it’s my son from Pakistan
They nuked us in 2012 high on post-Osama testosterone
Within a few weeks Russia became our foster home
Then nukes 2 and 3 fell and most of us died there and then
No one knows who sent those, but it must have been them
We approached the north, pressure from all the borders
Radiation crossed the barbed wire and command orders
Entire Middle East evacuated and then we were bombed again
The special interests were taken care of, but just to be certain
4 nukes later, we made our journey to the northern promise
My wife and kid got weaker and weaker and started to vomit
“We’ll be there soon, I’ll keep you safe, and you have my word”
A few miles ahead the ground covered in dead birds
We crunched through hollow bones and accepted the warmth
“Just a few steps and we’ll be there son, be strong!”
I watched as the bleak sky turned pitch black with locust swarms
I held on to my wife but I couldn’t grab hold of my son’s arm
We looked around and couldn’t find him or even his dead body
“We have to leave soon; we can find him better after surviving”
She was angry and I was sad, but we had to move on
The sun was setting and there were rumours of another bomb
We dragged our feet and finally made it to the guarded border
People were entering through a system of trade and barter
Didn’t have anything to give, but my wife knew what was to happen
She gave herself up and said, “Make this count and find our son”
For 10 years I wandered around the border looking for him
Every dead body could be him, but the chance were slim
The night before, there were reports of a 5th nuke in store
And the fact that Pakistan would forever close its doors
I scouted the borders and remembered my wife’s words
The notion of crossing the lead walls was yet absurd
And that night I saw the warm cadaver melting the snow
“I found my son dead, and now have nowhere else to go”
