Amongst the forest of fractured glass,
Through the deep wrought ravines,
Refracted light spills out unto
A myriad hidden scenes.
The towering enamel monoliths,
Great hot springs of toxic steam,
A constant rush alight with fire,
Swimming through the seams.
Cobwebs of steel and wire,
Stretching above the canopy of trees,
A sweeping river runs beneath,
Whispers secrets such as these.
Fallen stone of ages read,
Your bed is now of moss,
Which sleeps within your unturned page,
Forever others' loss.
Above all this the swinging branch,
Turns slowly in the breeze,
Ignored by all that lives beneath,
The comfort of the trees.
An exotic scene of such delights,
Spreads its lay in front of me,
As I sit and doze and look around,
My meagre menagerie.
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