Chrome Tincture

The screen says Avenue
The eyes see Avenue
The mind sees Desert.

The bodies walk in Urban Sand
The Unholy wind blows the
Tumbleweed-takeaway-trash.

Same stone column
Same wall, same gate
Only the detritus varies.

This Still Point never turns
As Suits add to the Decay
And Urban Tumbleweed grows.

Fear and Hopelessness thrive
In the Tombs of Masonry
Nothing ever Flourishes.

Pooka MMVIII

Wow, I actually understood that one. Nice.

Bravo, Pooka, I liked it....no translator necessary.

It's a trap, you fools! Nice Pooka :fly: