The plane descends
Into a smog
The sea barely visible
The runway appears suddenly.

A grey oppressive place,
Large mountains looming ahead
In the distance.
They seem to be watching. Waiting.

Cold, hard walls
Reflections are all you see
Staring back
At you

The customs were rough
And crowded.
A condescending look
And your passport thrown back at you

Out of the gates
More grey
The city's dead
Yet bustling with people

The smog just touches the top of the buildings
You smell smoke.
A concrete jungle
Cold and Grey.