Gerald finds himself alone
His belly rumbling with hunger,
The apocalypse has taken hold,
The old world exists no longer.
His throat is parched and cracked,
And he is suffering from thirst.
He decides it is the pressing need
So he looks for water first.
But before he can find a single well
Or even a little drop of hydration,
He gets lost in the expansive forests
And he dies of dehydration.
Gerald wakes to the sound of crashing waves
And groaning zombies in his ear
And he realises to survive this hell,
He will have to find some decent gear
So he scurries to the nearest house
Hurriedly looking for anything at all
But is startled by a vicious zombie
Who charges straight through the kitchen wall.
It shrieks a piercing wail and begins
To thrash and bite and kick and claw.
Gerald raises his useless fists to fight
But is soon beaten to the floor.
Blood gushes from his open wounds
The zombie still scratching at his head
And as his blood finally runs dry,
He is well and truly dead.
His next life goes much better though
And he finds some beans to snack;
He also finds a bikers helmet
And a large green hiker’s pack.
Feeling somewhat full of food,
And with thirst finally quenched,
He heads out on the open road
With protection from his wrench.
In the distance he spots another
Approaching, dressed in red,
A pistol in his hands
And a similar helmet on his head.
But even before these words:
‘Hi, im new, can you help’ are said.
The stranger aims his pistol
And shoots Gerald in the head.
Maybe the fourth go will mean
He survives more than an hour
And decides that he needs a gun,
For in them lies the power.
He avoids the roads and towns
And sticks mainly to the woods
And hides from everyone he sees
Until he can finally loot the goods.
He sneaks to the northwest airfield
And searches every barracks block
And finds his very own M4,
With pristine barrel, sight and stock.
Not wanting to waste the chance
He loots the nearby hospital as well,
But clips through one of the outer walls
And to an early death, Gerald fell.
Battered bruised and tired
He scavenges once again
To quickly find and lose his first M4
Is still a source of pain.
Another hour and he is finally
Tooled up and ready to go.
But is shot from 400 metres away
By whom he will never know.
Weary and now somewhat deranged,
He has developed a brand new twitch.
He once again starts gearing up
To scratch his DayZ itch.
He survives for many hours this time
And from his purgatory he is freed
And finally after endless looting
He has everything he needs.
He is confident, with food to last
and water in his back pack.
With gun in hand, and ammo too,
He strolls boldly down a track.
‘Stop’ he hears someone shout
And he stands deadly still.
He raises his gun to his shoulder
This time ready to fire at will.
‘Im right behind you, don’t move’
The disembodied voice commands
‘Put your hands up, on your knees’
His assailant now demands.
‘Don’t worry mate I’m friendly
This is just to check that you’re okay.
I’ll just take a look in your bag
And then you can go upon your way.’
Gerald stays completely still
As hears the man approach.
He considers making a run for it
But fears his captor’s reproach.
His arms are slid into hand cuffs
And secured behind his back.
His captor then freely searches
Through the things in Gerald’s pack.
‘Right your fine, but you seem hungry’
Please take his,’ the captor says,
Then forces Gerald to eat bleach
And injects blood into his veins.
‘Why?’ Gerald moans aloud,
His vision going blurry.
‘Because,’ his captor responds,
‘That’s a good enough reason, surely?’
The twitch is now a stutter;
Voices whisper dark deeds.
Gerald is happy to be lonely,
He has everything he needs.
‘Ill kill them,’ he laughs aloud,
‘Anyone who comes near.’
‘They’ll scream and beg so loud
The entire island will hear.’
And then he spots another,
Approaching and dressed in red.
He raises his M4 ready
Pointing at the stranger’s head.
But even before the words,
‘Hi, I’m new can you help?’ are said,
Gerald pulls the trigger of his rifle
And shoots the stranger in the head.
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