The Necropolis

Beryl posted under PenMuse-12 Poetry on 2019-10-14



The sky stretches her arms Over my dead city; There is no dance of lights In those faraway stars; Tonight the ghostly streets Are tattered and empty. Yesterday there were mists And strange fogs went floating Across the grey expanse Shrouding the many years I have lived among hoards Of stiff marionettes. I have closed my windows, But kept my doors open. The dim rooms are waiting For the flame of candles And the trembling voices Of long-forgotten friends. Who will come in the day? And who in the darkness? There are shadows inside And outside. Everywhere The world has turned silent Like a crumbling churchyard. I am tired of the lanes And the old alleyways- Sickly bones that stand out As some famed monument Biding its time, watching The whole lot fall apart. I call to mind the years That flew by like the birds In winter. Dead city Of my starry-eyed youth Yours is the siren song On whose rocks, I lie wrecked! ___________________ ___________________