R C Poet Free verse

Ancient City of Crumbling Stone

An ancient city,
crumbling stone,
putrid stench,
hopeless sand.
Where is the green that once promised?
Where is the sky that gave birth?
The disappearence of clouds
is unpleasant.
They passed,
just as our ancestors
did long ago.
In the ancient city,
green is perceived
in shades of brown.
All other colors are non-existent,
just as our ancestors,
who lived long ago.

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