London Town

There has never been a more despairing string of words than ‘the translucent legacy.’ The irony in the term forces my heart to collide with a voice of empty hollow. A legacy, the thing you leave for all to see, has become in one swift term, just as the sight of air.

This strikes as a mirror to our London; The legacy of individuality, of cups of tea, of pigeons, of Kings and Queens, of riches and of culture. This sight has delved into the depths of the beautiful past.

There are deer heads on the walls. There are children behind technology. Living days in fantasy. The life of innocence becomes a corrupted feign of truth.

The thought of what came before, the beauty that it stored.

Now there are deer heads on the walls. There are children behind technology. Living days in fantasy.

The past is dead and any hope slaughtered with it. It has been shunned by the violence of the lusty present and drip-fed into the wilted heart of hurt.

The legacy remains, but at a distance, as a far off memory of some beautiful thing which may have existed, on some autumn afternoon, within the palm of man.

Reviews

[Luther]

i did mean to say it twice. but i cant remember why i did???
hahah
maybe i will have a think and if i cant remember i will reduce it to one :)
thanks for the review!
x

[Jenn Gold]

I like this one; what a surprise. Again, your imagery is so good. I mean, come on, "palm of man"? Too good.
Just wanted to check though, did you mean to say
"There are deer heads on the walls. There are children behind technology. Living days in fantasy."
twice? It's good either way, but I was wondering.