As I walk among the ruins of an empire,
Bathed in bad omens and bitter prophecies,
Its people ignore the tolling of Death’s bell.
I found lost ghosts neck-deep in grief,
Time slipping through spectral fingers,
Amongst carved hearts of past tragic loves.
Passing rundown shops either show off
Months old décor, boarded up windows,
Yellowed flyers or dated advertisements.
Spiderweb cracks and empty spaces,
Wildflowers take root, ivy tightly coils
Around old relics, decades of nostalgia.
Graffiti has now become death notices,
Funerals for childhood haunts and teen habits,
As silent and sad estates dwindle in youth.
Negligent governance sitting pretty in
High seats and plush offices do not care
As rust and dust clogs up lungs daily.