Tuesday, 22 May 2012

A Victorian London Winter.

Whistling winds echo through the streets
A modern ancient abyss covered white.
History muffled in mystery concrete
Covered. The ever-present light burns less bright.
Resiliently persistent it howls
Confused within the smog to burst above the clouds.
A white painted prison to stifle lights sight,
A rasping retainer to hold in the night.

Just a little something...

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