Sunday, 9 June 2024

Ye Olde Tymes

 


When you walk,

look with eyes adrift.

Sometimes you see

the shadows shift.

People who you

wouldn’t normally

notice. They usually

just dissolve out of focus,

but in some twisted glances,

glimpsing in the darkness

as it advances, you will see

their otherworldly dances.

 

Walk the pathways

where your feet

don't usually traipse,

and sometimes you will see,

where the darkness meets

the blank void beneath.

People disappear

seemingly into

the thin air we breathe.

They disappear

when no doorway is near.

The ghostly echoes

of yesterday,

floating into ye olde tyme buildings,

now glass and concrete,

but in older days, housing

and hostelries so fine.

 

These streets,

blood seeped into their pores.

Built on so many tears.

Lost to times advancing years.

These streets hide so much more,

they hold the ghosts

in their forgotten memories,

walking where pathways used to be.

Screaming in tormented eternal agony

at the wretched hive of villainy

that has replaced their peaceful home

over the centuries.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Kyle
 

 

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