the cries of the dead whisper,
through the cracks of the city-scape,
they pause...then fade,
into wailing sirens,
of deaths love march,
the dead's eyes lie,
in the avenues,
separating skyscraper,
limited in height and width,
by hands of ghosts,
extending bloody hands,
to raise the crafters,
above the city wall,
separating the enlightened,
the damned