Rusted treasure

The world around me was a world of decay. It was a wasteland, a junkyard with mountains of metal everywhere. There were destroyed buildings and smoldering fires at every corner. It seemed as though the place had been destroyed, and then rebuilt entirely out of junk.
I was alone in a wilderness of waste. No, not alone. At the edge of my vision, I could see things shifting, moving slowly. But whenever you would look in that direction it would stop. You would only occasionally see the tail of some unknown monster or insect crawling into some nook or cranny to hide, always waiting, waiting for its next victim to pass by. Everything was quiet. There was no life. Only death, the sun was red. The dust was everywhere. Everything was dark. Even in the day. The world wasn’t a world. It was dump. Smoke was everywhere. But you would never see the fire. There were no clouds. No puddles, no water. Nothing grew, only withered. There were no trees, no plants, only metal, rock, and dust. But our world wasn’t always like this. It used to be giant, green, and prosperous. But then humans came along. We took from the earth, and never returned. Wars broke out, we built up huge bombs, and we blew up one another. The world was destroyed. So they left. They built goliath sized ships and left earth, went to space to destroy more planets.
But we didn’t all leave. Some couldn’t afford it. The homeless, the lost, the abandoned, and the separated. We were left behind. Left to go and make the best of the worst. They left us nothing, but we still survive. This place was earth, now, it’s Rust.