Nobody Else But Me

I have walked through the Mountains of Manhattan.

Seen the desert forests to the south

And the sparkling lakes to the north

There is nobody else here, only me

There was no big catastrophe

No great wars or deadly disease

It was all just, little things really

Now there is nobody left, only me

The sun is bright in the sky

And grows brighter ever day

I have climbed the highest mountain

And with a robotic eye, I will capture this moment

But there will be no-one left to see it, not even me.


Just a little short-story/poem thing I wrote today. Last night I started to picture a cybernetic human walking around Earth, the last person left, just taking a good look around before the Sun enveloped it all.

I like poetry formats, but I can’t rhyme. Is there a name for writing micro-stories with an emphasis on repetition?

I really enjoying doing stuff like this, I want to try and do more writing and creating just for the fun of it, and to stop trying so much pressure on myself to turn all my hobbies into careers. Maybe a hobby doesn’t need to be anything more than fun.

Art from Tokyo Genso

(Urgh, I need to do so much to clean up my category and tags on here)

  • Old_eyes

    There are some interesting Welsh poetic forms that use a lot of repetition. Often groups of three lines starting with “I am…”

    A good example is The Battle of the Trees, supposedly by Taliesin (

    It starts:

    I HAVE been in a multitude of shapes,

    Before I assumed a consistent form.1

    I have been a sword, narrow, variegated,

    I will believe when it is apparent.

    I have been a tear in the air,

    I have been the dullest of stars.

    I have been a word among letters,

    I have been a book in the origin.

    I have been the light of lanterns,

    A year and a half.

    I have been a continuing bridge,

    Over three score Abers.2

    I have been a course, I have been an eagle.

    I have been a coracle in the seas:

    I have been compliant in the banquet.

    I have been a drop in a shower;

    I have been a sword in the grasp of the hand

    I have been a shield in battle.

    I have been a string in a harp,

    Disguised for nine years.

    in water, in foam.

    I have been sponge in the fire,

    I have been wood in the covert.

    I am not he who will not sing of…

    It is a fun structure to play with.