Mauve wine spilling like a graveyard’s tear
Pavement’s of length ever matching to a dead man’s skull
Strings of centuries old flora, now a color
Of ultramarine thrown into its veins
Sills where the sky seems too low to touch
Towers that drool like molten chocolate
Winds that cannot be taken for one that’s gentle
Lights of stars that shimmer once in every yard
An aura of purple splattered in the walls
A feeling nevertheless scary or unsafe
A type of serene, a unique world’s beauty
An isolated step, a wishful thinking never
To have come, Wages and Cravings make a full stop
A humane without a heart
Just the soul to let it slip through
A turning life that’s carried away in chariot on wheels
A selfless cry, is where you will find the Streets Of Teal