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Docklands DocklandDocklands by ~meerkat777
The air of death hangs 'round this place,
From every weathered crack and blistered sore
A departing soul joins the river air,
Seeping from its once pulsating heart.
Red veins, once silver honed by use,
No longer host the blood of life, lie sheltered amongst creeping invaders,
And tiny yellow flowers lay a wreath over a broken skeleton,
Never buried, left to decay at the stony water's edge.
Empty leviathans, high buoyant, tower above the cold emptiness,
Pinned by arm – thick threads, a web of capture.
Their sea stained mottled hulls jar against antiquity,
Yearn to escape this desolation, to seek the open sea, their o
Sta.sh
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