City of Bones
The road to nowhere;
a road of indistinct nature
that baffles and bemuses.
A creature of comfort,
a black hole in the middle
of a City of Bones.
The clouds open up
beneath my dogged stride
darting through
sheets of purple rain.
The ground beneath me rumbles
and a great crack sunders the earth.
I ride through the darkened skies
on the creature’s black-winged back.
Ruby eyes illuminate the space,
burning leaves, baking the tarmac.
And oh, how the city groans.
Posted on January 31, 2016, in Poetry, Words, Writing and tagged Fantasy, London, poetry, Speculative fiction, Surreal fiction, Weird fiction, Words, Writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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