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ArtistIn the alleyways of forgotten dreams, Where colors bleed and shadows scream, A lone figure walks the broken path, Tracing the steps of an ancient wrath. Walls of crimson, walls of gold, Stories untold in the cracks and the mold, Each step echoes like a distant cry, From the depths of time, where the memories lie. The light bends and breaks, a fractured beam, Illuminating the silent scream, Of the city’s soul, lost and found, In the labyrinth of streets where the ghosts abound. Trees reach out with fingers of flame, Whispering secrets, whispering names, Of those who walked this path before, In a world that exists no more. And the figure, a shadow in the light, Moves through the day, into the night, Searching for something, or someone lost, In the maze of dreams, where the lines are crossed. For in this place, nothing is real, Just echoes of what we used to feel, A dream within a dream, we tread, In the city of the living dead.
In a haunting cityscape, a solitary figure navigates vibrant yet decaying alleyways, uncovering lost stories and memories. Shadows whisper secrets of the past, revealing a dreamlike existence. Based on a poem I wrote.
