In a world that's silent, under a crimson sky,

She walks the asphalt path, where echoes of life now lie.

The highway, once bustling, now quiet and forlorn,

A reminder of a world, before the apocalypse was born.

Her footfalls are the only sound, a beat against the grey,

A testament to perseverance, in a world that's lost its way. Onwards she journeys, beneath the sun's harsh glare,

A solitary figure, in a world stripped bare.

The highway stretches endless, a path of desolation,

Her only company, her shadow and determination.

Despite the desolation, her spirit isn't quelled,

For in her heart, stories of hope are held.