New Poetry Wednesday: Lost Cities

Lost Cities

Crumbling Babylon
Wish it could be turned
Turned back into the illusion
It once cringed to
But I have changed
The woven tales, shredding
Threadbare in approach
Fear to be the ghost
Looking on, looking through
Wonder if it has taken residence
In heart when I was looking
Looking for Atlantis
Everything so buried
Sands of time cruel
To seekers who have no business
Searching for ill begotten reasons
Yet I look out of need
For an exorcism
My Babylon, my Atlantis
Cleave answers sought
Tightly to their dented armor

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