What is this alluring place,
where red and blue meet?

With a cindered path,
stretching beneath our feet.

Torricelli's trumpet,
is seldom here to greet.

Crusted tears dry upon hardened faces,
naked skin reddens from scorching heat.

Lambs who were led to slaughter,
bleat.

Life's blood escaping,
as hearts and veins deplete.

Miasmas permeate the mind like mace,
memories revealed,
are mostly anything but sweet.

Gutters filled,
overflowing with spent souls,
shouting of past deceit.

Second-hand angels,
brandishing tarnished wings,
up and down every street.

Those who say;
they flew too close to the sun,
are being dreadfully discrete.

Each,
only trying to find,
their own pathway home,
never wanting to admit defeat.

Survivors spinning tales,
travel down trodden trails,
be they to or from hell.
His Excellency,
we all are trying to cheat.

Yes!
What a captivating place,
is our communal space,
where wayward hearts of souls,
in varied shades of red and blue,
choose to mingle and meet.