The City Breathes its Last By M.S

The City Breathes its Last

In this city of old,
the day comes
when morning holds
no light and the night casts
its evil eye through stars
that never blink.

These borders crumble
to spill precious innards
for the world to behold
and the trees leave their posts
bony fingers raised
to point blame.

Our homes, stripped
of all dreams,
auction pieces
of our hearts
as the land underneath
gurgles in regret.

In the cauldron of myth,
ingredients churn and bubble –

theatres and museums
stabbed in their sleep,
schools and playgrounds
poisoned to death,
taxi stands and bus stops
throttled by noxious fumes.

We vow to spend eternity
haunting trespassers,
demanding an oath
of loyalty
forever lodged
in a silent scream.

On this day,
we perish together,
the city and I –
bridled by vices
as glorious
as yesterday’s sun.

By M.S


M.S. thanks you for reading her poem. Her flash fiction and poetry can be found in various online literary journals and magazines.

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