Spires of the City 0
The clock chimes the hour in the city.
The clock chimes the hour in the city.
He is tired from all the attention, trying to ignore the avid onlookers.
The fog drifts in delicately, obscuring my vision with tiny pinpricks of cold.
Let’s go on an adventure where we don’t know what lies around the bend!
The old train rests dreaming with memories of exotic destinations long time past.
A lonesome ground where its only occupants are pillars of power busily buzzing along.
Mirror images like a funhouse mirror, one part truth, one part imagination.
The stones have weathered, each different from its companion.
It stands alone, the trendsetter that rears its head proudly, feeling the admiring looks that rest upon it.