Elegy To Industry

A poem on the death of industry with Gothic overtones

Mammoth dark brick buildings
architecturally portrayed against a
cloudy gray sky,

high they tower
above
anything ever conceived of
by our imaginations'
eye,
larger than life, I

walk through the maze
of a dream-induced haze;
metaphysical
images
arise, they
rise and they rise

like smoke from the stack,
tops burnt black
from perpetual
chemically induced
exhalations,

now witness an aberration:

panes are cracked,
frames lack
their maximum capacity
for glass;
empty
sockets without eyes,

skulls
that lie
forgotten
in an
asphalt
graveyard.