A city keeps its ruins

A city keeps its ruins
Reaping its charm
affirmated in grave
The vitality in pride
The everlasting odor
of hot, sugared grain.

The promise of light
time-locked forever
A rustbox collection
epitomizing a name
decays in continuum
Fixtures to never fade.

Dismantled lifesource
The histories remain
Nostalgia of unknown
The past runs through
love, until it’s again.

Published by Luke Meyer

Author, blogger, painter, poet, schizophrenic, vitamin salesman. There's a shadow person living in my head is something I believe. Fiction. Digital art. Smalltime jobs. I do all these things. Bad biology is a lie. God is a robot.

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