The Solitude of the City

I feel I should atone, as these tones of grey punish my soul and greying sight,
Casts shadow across my belief in love.
Sitting still alone and lonely my wish for worlds above decays as the decaying station,
Binds my heat and trust thereof.

Filthy as the coughs of coughing proles as trees oft thought and often dreamt,
Fly forward amidst the wheezes.
There I stand aloft, on lofty peaks as breezes soft and softly float,
Me away from these city sleazes.

These tracks perverted, still perverting slays hope while I sit hoping,
To escape this endless, empty fray.
Where dirt and dirty thoughts give way to peaceful slopes and sloping sights,
And brightness of the dawning day.


wasteland