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Dec 2019
Opulent,
Decadent,
Almost vicelike.
The people grovel,
Teeming among the city that sinks
Under the weight of its own
Infestation of the self.
The glass reflects the leering eyes of the masses.

The stench of the water rises,
Cloying.
Languid in obscenity
The shadows rot, unseen.
A graveyard of moorings past.

A woman falls.
We crowd around,
Vultures
Jockeying for view.

Guitar strings vibrate in the square
The sun beats down.

It was beautiful here,
Once.
Written by
Olivia  F
(F)   
189
 
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