Skeletal wooden frames,
clad in the night’s inky veil
bend and quiver against
breaths blown from Ural lungs.
Tractors of success rip
asphalt from dying streets;
while streetlights mourn
the birth of tomorrow’s decay.
And as two bottles of gin
sway into each other's way
the stench of ambition’s
corpse pollutes the air.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:56 PM UTC
Skeletal wooden frames,
clad in the night’s inky veil
bend and quiver against
breaths blown from Ural lungs.
Tractors of success rip
asphalt from dying streets;
while streetlights mourn
the birth of tomorrow’s decay.
And as two bottles of gin
sway into each other's way
the stench of ambition’s
corpse pollutes the air.