The Gas had breached the Barrier

Fuck. It was beautiful.
The sky was overcast, with eternal darkness. Thunder rumbled somewhere over the opposite court, on the other side of the horizon…
An unassaulted street lamp shed its light on the shifty-eyed earth, which was shying away from illumination; guilt wrought large upon her otherwise inscrutable face – which heaved and sighed, split into a smile, spout smoke in anger, hissed in a sharp protest, spew a rock or two in utter disgust – all at the same time. It was as if she has risen up to a grand tantrum – such a pouty little vixen, she was!!
The wind whistled. Like a million tiny dervishes, the soot and the sand were locked in an eternal jig of pure turbulence. In the background, the gnarled banyan sighed, stooping over and resting its girth on the many branches. Its eyes were transfixed at the sky, longing to see its beloved just one more time or at least feel its warm, bright caress over its bald, woody head. Alas! The love was unrequited.
I gazed by at the scene. The canister mask was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The water curtain was putting up a brave fight. But I knew I wouldn’t survive much longer, the gas had breached the barrier.
I felt cheated by the expurgated version of the world which the water filtered out for me. But then, I wished to survive just a little bit longer…
Did I see Mr. Chatterjee’s white fiat on the other side of the road? He would have turned in his grave; it had received a mighty battering from nature. Nature was such a bitch. Why would she wish to be estranged from us, selfish human beings?! Why would she macerate our great civilization into an unrecognizable pulp, heating us into nothingness in her gigantic blast furnace with her righteous anger? Why is she hell-bent on the genocide of the great human race, which had built its edifice over the dead bodies of countless other living beings?
There might be an answer in there, somewhere… I no longer care…
The water slowly spluttered from a jet to a spray, and from spray to a sprinkle, as the pointer of the pressure gauge moved towards zero. I gasped. The scene was breathtaking, also I could no longer breathe…
Shiva had opened his third eye. The earth ruptured, red hot magma spew out, swallowing the banyan whole, in one bite. The ground slipped beneath my feet. I tumbled. The water flow stopped. The adsorbent in my canister could no longer filter out poison. I was dying, within and without.
I am sorry for using the past tense in the last few lines. It had been my ridiculous hope that somehow, I might survive this bad, beautiful nightmare and live to tell the tale. I will no longer delude myself.
The earth has already gulped up Mr. Chatterjee’s white fiat, it is coming for me…
I close my eyes. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to think. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to send satellites into space. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to ride on trains. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to vote. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to debate. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to watch T.V. Soon the earth will no longer be able to express love. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to pray. Soon, the earth will no longer be able to read…
Damn Humans! Nearly out, yet so proud.
I open my eyes. I see nothing………