The Full Yet Empty City
The city in all its glory. Wide, vast, full of life. The voice of the city is loud and frantic. The sound and voices around every corner. If the walls of broken concrete and twisted metal of this one great city were touched the pain of the city would feel like a quiver of fear and anticipation. A nation's capitol torn, broken, corrupted. Only ghosts fill its nooks, and sorrows evade its crevices An enraged city looking to draw in the unsuspecting with its dark and sullen broken world. A curious sight to behold. The only way to evade its grasp is to lose all interest in what may lie within its many walls.
Only losing interest in something so great and so fascinating is a hard goal to meet. It's many voices calling and urging. Pulling in more souls to feast on. A hunger clawing, screaming, devouring. The sobs of the dying its music as it dines. A haunted city that feels no remorse, only hunger. A hunger only sated by curious lost souls. The city feeds and feeds, filling the endless empty soul it has endured for so many years of abuse and neglect.
Eventually the cities call answered. Its hunger fed. Then its pain and anger continues in an endless circle of want. All the voices and their continuous cry of hate echo throughout its streets. More stories for the road. To be neglected for so long the city calls out in loneliness before turning and swallowing whole more lives. Its sad wilted look only a ploy for pity. To try to pacify this lonely anger only sends the city into feeding chaos. The city will have what it wants, anyway it can get it. Its only friend in something that knows its pain shared in its abuse. The road.
The City demands respect. And the city will get it.