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A Ghost's Lament
The world is silent now. There's no air left to carry sound. The rapture came long ago and ripped the atmosphere away. It took everything. All the people, dead and alive. All the sprits, even all the animals and plants. All that's left is the bare rock, scarred with a few fresh craters.
And me.
Why it left me I don't know. I wasn't a believer, but neither were so many people when the end came. I guess I'll never know. The whole world was swept clean.
Only this battered rock and the stars above remain. Except me to haunt it.
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