CITY OF LOST SOULS

Loneliness oozes from every lifeless orb that I see
while wandering aimlessly the fabled fortress of prosperity
existing beneath a perennially dismal, leaden sky.

Traversing the ocean's tide, I was attracted
by tales of a raven blessing travelers with a singing magical key.
However, my footsteps there quickly brought death to my fantasy
leaving me to search in vain
for some faint flicker of passion among all the harden faces.

Now I know that seldom does the essence of this stony megalopolis
share more love than hate with its denizens,
but it sill lures legions of pilgrims with legends of sacred treasures
guarded within its vaults and catacombs.

Despite the heartache, the spell from its lore seduces so many to come
with hordes arriving among the needy, greedy, hurting and sublime
all praying to find a deeper breath of purpose and meaning
to fill the bottomless hole of esteem within their heart.

Unseen are tears stained upon its streets and walls
which have also absorbed every muffled sob
from these lucre zombies who languish in their slow death
pretending they have found Nirvana
by refusing to embrace how its coldness possesses every being.

It leaves the spirit trapped in a maze of comatose emptiness
ever a condemned prisoner trapped inside a pulse mausoleum
who secretly whisper in deepest lament its real name,
City of Lost Souls.