October’s haze,

Yellow fog embraces,

Lamps on the Embankment gleam.

Jaundice, a soul’s disease,

London’s heart starts to stream.

___

Raindrops fly,

On slick black stones they glide.

Each drop, a sliver,

Or memory's shattered tide,

Of mirrors, once tied.

___

The leaves decline,

Brown, brittle, they pine,

Like old letters, untold, unseen.

Forgotten tongues sigh,

And make the world unseen.

___

To shadows alone they sigh,

Beneath a skeletal tree.

It answers so slow,

With secrets, memories,

Lost to the undertow.

___

A lost tribe,

Through Regent’s Park, they reside.

Empty eyes stare,

For meaning out there,

That no one can provide.

___

A bus gives pain,

A tired mechanical vein,

Coughs light into the gray.

Escape is not for staying;

The world doesn't play.

___

A siren then,

A wail in the void descends.

Battles fought, a broken tale,

What could have been they tell,

They fade in our dells.

___

The Thames just rises,

A muddy serpent by size,

Secrets it carries,

Dreams where hope marries,

The cold sea never cries.

___

A drunk takes flight,

Cursing at the light.

He sees visions near,

In swirling mist so clear,

Angels and demons intertwined here.

___

This city sleeps,

In dreams of darkness, where it weeps,

Haunted by those who died,

Ghosts of what lies inside,

The world is all lies.