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#malls
Entombed on the outskirts of hero township sits a once Arcadian jewel turned relic its vast wings spread as an eagle but the days of flight long exhausted sullen close-down signs and banners hang minatory from a fractured glass ceiling -- a terminal remainder spots of rain fall thru strewn wreckage along the counters of a fossilized department store inchworms journey down the massive teeth of a frozen escalator descended from the empty heavens creepy crawlers move about remnants of a food court in search of morsels like the droves of holiday shoppers that once haunted this place before betraying it for the shiny new toy across the highway
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Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC
Carlo-C-Gomez
Abandoned Shopping Mall
Entombed on the outskirts of hero township sits a once Arcadian jewel turned relic its vast wings spread as an eagle but the days of flight long exhausted sullen close-down signs and banners hang minatory from a fractured glass ceiling -- a terminal remainder spots of rain fall thru strewn wreckage along the counters of a fossilized department store inchworms journey down the massive teeth of a frozen escalator descended from the empty heavens creepy crawlers move about remnants of a food court in search of morsels like the droves of holiday shoppers that once haunted this place before betraying it for the shiny new toy across the highway
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27
And I have seen paradise before It was a heaven of ideological proportions located on the junction of childhood and interstates of man and youth, with marble floors and distant speakers echoing drops off of cell phone booths and older people selling things for us to buy to find ourselves happy in the moment deep cascading waterfalls Is this heaven? When a child it's all you see the white and pedicured purity of a waxed granite floor, the impersonal monotony feeling a soul in a world unknown the closest thing to dreaming Old T.Vs selling like hotcakes buy it while it's new! Gameboy games, pokemon on the tele silent in the face of some strange musician playing unworded tunes you'll recognize later their focus-grouped chords left somewhere in your mind for you to hum when bored Everything was perfect, then? was it? Those same malls don't sparkle no more maybe it's just the grime of life blocking the mirrored measure of my childhood soul lost amidst the echoes the sweet music of truth bouncing off of the uncolored walls a send-off of my youth Maybe when we go back, one day the walls won't be quite so grey they'll be power-washed with light, shine better than ever before, nothing to buy but our happiness somewhere in those hallowed halls searching those windows into other lives hoping to find the key to our soul to leave this silly Sphere and Roebuck our boat back out the sliding door -windows back out into the real world, no longer dreaming.
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Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
TimelessWave
Mallsoft
And I have seen paradise before It was a heaven of ideological proportions located on the junction of childhood and interstates of man and youth, with marble floors and distant speakers echoing drops off of cell phone booths and older people selling things for us to buy to find ourselves happy in the moment deep cascading waterfalls Is this heaven? When a child it's all you see the white and pedicured purity of a waxed granite floor, the impersonal monotony feeling a soul in a world unknown the closest thing to dreaming Old T.Vs selling like hotcakes buy it while it's new! Gameboy games, pokemon on the tele silent in the face of some strange musician playing unworded tunes you'll recognize later their focus-grouped chords left somewhere in your mind for you to hum when bored Everything was perfect, then? was it? Those same malls don't sparkle no more maybe it's just the grime of life blocking the mirrored measure of my childhood soul lost amidst the echoes the sweet music of truth bouncing off of the uncolored walls a send-off of my youth Maybe when we go back, one day the walls won't be quite so grey they'll be power-washed with light, shine better than ever before, nothing to buy but our happiness somewhere in those hallowed halls searching those windows into other lives hoping to find the key to our soul to leave this silly Sphere and Roebuck our boat back out the sliding door -windows back out into the real world, no longer dreaming.
Continue reading...
51