Ozymandias: Part 2

The blue sun hangs low across the horizon. I sit in silence, watching it make its slow descent out of view. Finally, the burden upon my skin could be relieved, if only for a moment. I dare not move at any time in which the sun peeks out its dreary head. Even scantily clad in rags and scraps, I still heat like a brazen bowl during the everlasting days. Beneath the rags and above my raw skin, sits a prison I can never escape. Pieces of rusted metal sit loosely upon my body, covering almost every inch.

It was an almost unbearable punishment at one point, but now my body has become numb from the wear and tear over the thousands of years. It is not pain that fuels my avoidance of tearing my flesh within this prison but because if the wounds become too excessive upon my aging figure, I may die before I see my destination and fulfill my duty. Even tensing my muscles or shifting a toe causes every loose, metallic sheet to rattle like a snake’s tail and strike my skin, branding me like a cow or a bull. Each piece is screwed and drilled through my skin, anchored to my bones. I can feel each and every screw within the folds of my skin and muscles, and every step I take, every gesture, every pose, I can detect the tips of the corroded screws eroding my bones.

Within my chest I carry a piece of the sky. The final missing piece of the puzzle. I have searched far and wide in hopes of finding its place within this machine, but it has eluded me. I don’t know why this is my duty, nor why I am imprisoned. I just awoke into this mortal shell.

Every time the sun falls I stand and continue my journey. I have grown close to each grain of sand, as if they are a lover I have felt inside and out, emotionally and physically. When the cold moon rises, its rays shine across the rolling dunes, guiding my journey across this barren wasteland. A full moon tonight, the brightest night we will have for a while, and an opportune moment to tread onward. My feet drag and shift in the glistening blue sands beneath me. I can feel the grains cooling down as they fall between my toes, a welcomed sensation when the heat of the sun dissipates. The incessant wind reshapes the fragile mountains around me. As I move at night, so does the fauna. Out from the ground, emerges a large creature, shaking its chitin free of the many grains that once guarded it from the angry star. It walks and shifts silently next to me. Quicker, as its mission is more dire than my own.

I watch the goliath shift its many legs quickly, its tail standing curled and proud, still and unmoving despite the urgent gesticulation of the rest of its body. It has one job, to find food. Every night is a dire quest for the being, a moment in which it may move, unseen and unharmed by the sun. I suppose I have picked up on their patterns and applied them to my movements. It has saved me some irritation, and maybe has allowed my journey to continue for a little longer.

My momentary companion speeds ahead, and disappears into the dark wall that is night. I follow, unwillingly, as I too have no other choice but to move forward. Jutting out of the landscape, between the far stretches of nothingness, ruins stand tall. What were they before the forms were wasted and engulfed by the sand? The tall rectangular structures look as if they are melting, sinking at angles into the sand. There are words on the buildings, once glowing and glistening neon signs that now sit dark and purposeless upon the walls. Connecting pathways around each building have crumbled, no meaning for their existence. If you place your hand upon the sides of one of these dying giants, you can feel them slowly sinking into the desert.

Nothing is meant to last in this world. Even the wild monsters that roam beneath the sand have an expiration date. This is a dying world, and soon I will be all alone on it, wandering endlessly, searching for a place that may not even exist.

As I approach the end of the ruins, the blue sun rises, and I must stop again. I slowly shift inside my cruel, unnatural exoskeleton and sit. Even with the greatest care, minimizing every possible movement, I still feel the metal scrape and pierce my bare flesh. The nails cause my muscles to stiffen and they rip through any shifting mass under my skin. I adjust my cloak, attempting to cover what I can to protect myself from the rising sun. I watch in the distance as dunes shift, and a few remaining lifeforms dive below the surface, escaping the heat just as I am. Daylight arrives.

Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.