The Dark City

It sits upon the plains Like a flint knife Thrust as if by an angry god It broods sheer and gray A pit of infinite despair Many travel here and yet There are none to see I grow near The streets are silent Stark and empty as a crypt The walls are full of stories Of people whose time Has come and gone The streets carry a feeling As strange as feelings come It is an endless churning Of apprehension As if people wait Around the next bend But the city is a trickster And will not suffer it's guests To hope for long Instead all that there is Are ghosts and loneliness That vanish As if only imagined For that is the way of the city The Dark City So take care You dare not linger there Kudos and props go to two books, The Stormcaller by Tom Lloyd and The Singing by Alison Croggan, they helped start me on my journey to vizualizing the "dark city"