Encroaching Dystopia

As dawn's dead air hung high and broken
And twilight sang its last refrain,
The city felt so far behind me
Whilst I strode past its scorched remains.

The mount loomed perilously over
Everything that stood nearby;
Beyond it's breadth I dared not wonder,
Though watched, regardless, at the sky.

The distant sounds of war broke echoes
Unrivaled, over voiceless land.
Telling myself lies of valor,
I set about the task at hand.

I started up the steepened hillock
With hope and faith left far in tow.
The clouds were pale and lifeless,
As they mirrored earth below.

Climbing I, despite my body,
Came half the way, and twice my fill.
And as I rested on my haunches,
A ghastly trio crested the hill.

A figure stood atop the peak
The Master, steely bone.
Its visage bore no similie
To anything I'd known.

To either side, a mongrel
As tall as one hundred men;
But their master, who had chained them,
Was nearly twice as tall again.

The two beasts hummed in unison,
'til the Master pulled their leash.
They silenced and looked onward,
As he began his speech.

"Hail, survivor", first he spoke,
as I, disheveled, stared.
"I'd come to ease your perils,
But so many still despaired."

"So, turn and look behind you!
Behold my new creation!"
I turned to study where I'd been,
Though found only desolation.

I turned again, to ask him, "Why?"
And he stared intently, awed;
With a smirk, he then commanded:
"Kneel before me. I am God."

©Harry Martin, registered with the Writer's Guild of America. Do not plagiarize, please.