Last Man Standing

My core is beginning to rot and crumble,
I fumble and grasp with life but it flits away,
Like an innocent bird floating on a breeze that suddenly stops,
Suddenly halts,
And the bird falls.

My arms are drooping, wilting, collapsing under the pressure and the weight of this world,
I am the only hope but I am evaporating like water left out in the sunshine,
But there is no sunshine,
Only clouds and rain but I do not drink for I cannot.
I cannot.

I am the last man standing.
The only left of my kind.
The single, solitary source of light in this dark life but my bulb has blown and we are in darkness.
The forest has been torn down - the forest of creation, of survival, of the creatures and the people and the trees.
The trees.
So many trees.
I am the last man standing.