They travel at the speed of lost possibilities
crowding avenues where machines of steel slither
upon tracks of slime left by snakes spewing death.
Not so long ago they traced similar tales
with steps heavy as those of ancient ogres
thundering through streets dark as tunnels in Hades.
Transfixed their eyes are without luster
guides to souls unable to find a future
yet surrounded by myriad dots of light above.
Their journey began at dawn under opportune augurs
soon twisted by scattered storms and vivid winds
making them into ghosts of many a dying passion.
No longer do the burning Augusts nor the icy Marches
touch the insides of these sauntering shells
rusty robots under the rains of their dreaded thoughts.
A thick darkness follows them like hyenas on leashes
slowly pushing the glow of hopeful souls deeper
where they may perish in a last desperate plea.