Winter Solstice

The frigid breeze bellows through youYour tattered jacket torn
Walking up and down
Back and forth
All around
Lost among the urban decay of old Silk City
Where sheets cloak the windows
and the copper pipes were long ago extracted like gold
While snowflakes encrust the sidewalk
You search to forget your identity
A search you are trying so desperately to end
and still you never will
Crowds off Broadway, on Auburn
Foaming from the mouth like raging pit bulls
Peddling a pact of blood with the devil
So many bought, so many sold
You sell your soul for a high price daily
Yet how you vow to one day escape the fodder
and make recompense to the Father
Though each day you trudge back into the cold
To hustle up a few more dollars
So that you can pay the devil his due.
Snow falls in the winter wasteland
Hell hath frozen over
Down in old Silk City
Where deception is a tangible being
and even children lose their soul
You'll die among the broken dreams, and the broken homes
Swallowed up by old Silk City
where the bickering masses take to the streets
Snarling like ravenous wolves
Each one fighting another
Plotting on a new way to give the devil his due.

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